


The Last Time

by coincidental_penalties, watchforwalkers



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Ending, Blow Jobs, Break Up, Episode: s03e05 The First Time, F/M, Fantasy Fulfillment, First Time, Fix-It, M/M, One Fic/One Fandom Project, Sex Hair, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-19
Updated: 2012-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-21 16:04:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/599626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coincidental_penalties/pseuds/coincidental_penalties, https://archiveofourown.org/users/watchforwalkers/pseuds/watchforwalkers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A small part in the school musical. Rachel running against him for senior class president. Uncertain college prospects. Kurt wanted his senior year to be magic; so far it's been anything but.  Blaine's startling actions provide a catalyst for Kurt to reevaluate his relationships, and Kurt discovers that he and Finn have even more common ground than either of them thought. Will the ultimate betrayal lead to the fulfillment of a wish Kurt didn't realize he still had?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Time

Kurt can’t help feeling somewhat relieved when he drives up to the house and doesn’t see Rachel’s car this time. A milkshake was an impromptu treat, but having to find something else to use up the time on wasn’t on his agenda, not after the encounter with Sebastian at the Lima Bean earlier. He parks the Navigator and heads inside, walking towards the kitchen with his trash. 

Finn is standing at the sink washing dishes, his shoulders slumped a little, and Kurt shakes his head. “Finn, please remember we do have a perfectly good dishwasher.”

“Hey, Kurt,” Finn says. His tone is glum and he doesn’t turn around to look at Kurt. “I like to do them this way. It keeps my mind off of stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?” Kurt asks cautiously, because Finn appears to be quite a bit more down than Kurt would have expected. 

“Rachel stuff. I don’t want to put you in the middle of it or anything like that.”

“Since she and I aren’t precisely on the best of terms while she continues with her ill-advised presidential campaign, I hardly think you could make things worse.” Kurt dumps his empty milkshake cup in the trash and sits at the kitchen table. “What happened?”

“It’s just something she said tonight,” Finn says, shrugging. “I mean, we had this nice dinner and then she acted like she wanted to—you know.” 

“Okay,” Kurt says slowly. “What did she say?”

“I told her that I wanted it to be special, you know? That I was saving up so we could go someplace nice, and that it was okay if we waited. I’m not in a rush or anything, right?” Finn shakes his head. “But then she said… she said she needed ‘get this done’ before opening night. That’s what she called it. Getting this done.”

Kurt can feel his jaw drop down a bit. “She actually said that?” Despite their current tension, Kurt wouldn’t have thought of Rachel as someone who would be so cruel, nor someone who would view things that way.

“So she could act better,” Finn says. “Because she loves me, sure, but also so she can act better.”

“Wait, what?” Kurt closes his eyes briefly. “I don’t understand,” he admits.

“Something about waking up. Like, sexually. So she can play Maria better.” Finn sighs. “It didn’t, though. Happen, I mean.”

“But the point of _acting_ is portraying a character or situation that the actor doesn’t necessarily have personal experience with,” Kurt says. “That’s—I’m so sorry, Finn.”

“Yeah, me too. It sucks to feel like I’m homework for somebody’s acting class,” Finn says. 

Kurt nods, not sure what to say, because he can’t imagine how that must feel. 

Finn sets the last bowl in the drying rack, then slowly dries his hands on a towel before turning around and leaning back on the counter. “Do you ever feel like you’ve almost got everything together,” he asks, “but then something happens and you realize how much you really don’t?”

Kurt can’t decide whether to laugh or cry. “Exhibit A: my senior year so far, for the most part,” he agrees. 

“I’m sorry if it feels like I’m not taking sides and I should,” Finn says. “I thought maybe I could wait you two out and everybody would get along and be happy again. I’m starting to think maybe that won’t happen.”

“I’m not sure Rachel views it as you not taking sides, actually,” Kurt says after a moment’s thought. “I think if you asked her, she would say you were on her side.”

“I’m not sure she cares what I think about either side,” Finn admits. “I’m not sure she cares what I think about anything. I just feel so—I don’t know. There’s gotta be a word for how I feel right now.”

Kurt bites back the answer that comes to mind—‘used’—and instead stands up, going to the refrigerator. “Oh, good. That tub of cookie dough Carole ordered from the elementary school kid down the street is here. Dessert?”

“Do we have to bake them?”

“No.” Kurt scoffs. “Why would we do that?”

That makes Finn finally smile. “I can’t think of any good reason for that.”

Kurt grabs the tub of cookie dough, then two spoons, before walking towards the living room. “Simpsons re-run?” Kurt asks.

“We can marathon it,” Finn says. He sits down on the sofa next to Kurt. Kurt hands Finn one of the spoons and pats him on the shoulder when he notices Finn still visibly looks a little down. Finn gives Kurt a faint smile and adds, “Hey, the recruiter’s coming to the game, though, so at least I should have some good news then, right?”

***

Kurt doesn’t bother to try to fix his hair or straighten any of clothes before he climbs out of the Navigator and heads inside. He knows his face is still likely to be red and blotchy from the amount of crying he has been doing, but he can’t bring himself to care. His footsteps echo on the floor as he walks towards the kitchen, and despite knowing that his dad and Carole are at a campaign event, he still calls out, hopefully, “Dad?”

“Nobody here but us chickens,” Finn answers from the living room. “You’re back already?”

Kurt detours towards the living room and stands in the doorway. “I am back,” he agrees, unsure where to begin. “I… I’m home.”

“Hey, d’you have a good—oh, hey, Kurt, are you alright?” Finn asks, standing up. “Did something happen?”

“Yes. I don’t know.” Kurt sighs, his body sagging as he exhales. “Blaine was drunk. Really drunk. He said he had only had one beer, but there’s no way that was true.” Kurt pauses, trying to decide what to say next. “Apparently he’s a handsy drunk.”

“A handsy… do you want to talk about it?” Finn asks.

“What I want doesn’t seem to a particular feature in my life,” Kurt says, but he sits down. Finn sits back down next to him. “No. I should call it what it was. I said no. He didn’t stop when I said no. If Blaine were, I don’t know. Your size. What I said wouldn’t have mattered.”

“Hey,” Finn says, seemingly offended. “I wouldn’t ever do something like that. Someone else’s size, maybe, but not my size.” He puts his arm awkwardly around Kurt, though. “You want a hug?”

Kurt nods a little. “Thank you for asking,” he whispers. Finn pulls him into a too-tight bear hug, and holds him for a few seconds before releasing him.

“Do you want me to talk to him?” Finn asks.

“The worst part is I’m not convinced that he’ll remember it tomorrow,” Kurt admits. 

“I can remind him,” Finn offers. “That’s not cool, Kurt. He shouldn’t have done that.”

“No. And I know you wouldn’t do anything like that, Finn. You have to admit that I would have a difficult time fighting off someone stronger than me or considerably taller, though.”

“Then it’s a good thing Blaine’s not, or I’d be driving out to wherever it is his house is and killing him right now,” Finn says firmly. 

“Not if I drove faster,” Kurt counters. “Regardless. This evening did not go as planned. Much like the rest of my senior year so far.”

“It’ll get better. I know it will,” Finn says. “Things’ll turn around.”

“I don’t know. I’m beginning to think Rachel’s idea of only one application is more stupid than an application of positive thinking.” Kurt sighs and glances at Finn apologetically. “Sorry.”

Finn raises one hand to wave away Kurt’s apology. “I’m still trying to be neutral ground. That’s what keeps my life peaceful.”

“You have an interesting version of peaceful, you know.”

“If nobody’s mad at me?” Finn shrugs. “I’d call that peaceful.”

Kurt doesn’t move, just stays beside Finn, letting the drone of the announcers from the baseball game wash over him. “Are you rooting for the ones in red?” he finally asks.

“Those are the Cardinals,” Finn explains. “That’s Carpenter pitching. He’s even taller than me.”

“Not possible,” Kurt half-heartedly argues.

“Watch and learn, Kurt,” Finn says. “Watch and learn.”

***

The dress rehearsal for _West Side Story_ lasts all afternoon, and since Blaine and Rachel are in most of the scenes, Kurt doesn’t really have to work to avoid contact with either of them. In fact, he barely sees them, and Kurt checks his phone once he’s inside his Navigator. No messages except one from Burt, who says there’s a plate for him waiting in the refrigerator. Kurt nods to himself and heads straight home, going into the kitchen immediately to warm up the plate.

“I’m home!” he calls once the plate is in the microwave.

“Hey, kid!” Burt calls back after a minute. “Rehearsal go okay?”

“Fine, Dad!” Kurt can hear Burt moving around upstairs, and Kurt smiles to himself as the microwave dings. “Food at last,” he mutters to himself.

“I smell food,” Finn says, walking into the kitchen. “Is there more food?”

“No, it’s my dinner,” Kurt says, shooting Finn a preemptive glare as he sits down and starts to eat. Finn reaches out and snatches a piece of roasted potato. Kurt slaps Finn’s hand, still glaring, but it doesn’t stop Finn from popping the potato into his mouth.

“Mmm, that’s a really good potato,” Finn says, with the same grin he uses on Carole when he’s trying to get away with something by being adorable. It usually works, too, and not just on Carole, but on all three of them. Kurt sighs and shakes his head, pulling his plate closer. 

“You’re a menace, Finn Hudson,” Kurt pronounces.

“You weren’t going to eat it all anyway,” Finn argues. “I heard you telling Mercedes that you wanted to lose three pounds so the plaid didn’t stretch weird on those furberry pants.”

“Burberry, Finn,” Kurt corrects. “And that was two weeks ago. I wore those pants on Monday. Now you’ve _stolen my dinner_ ,” he concludes dramatically. “How does it feel to know you’ve committed this crime?”

“If you give me one more potato, I’ll tell you where I hid those awesome cookies with the two different chocolates,” Finn says. “We can eat them while we play _Paper Mario_.”

“I didn’t know we were playing _Paper Mario_ ,” Kurt says as he hands Finn another piece of potato. 

“Oh yeah,” Finn says, putting the potato into his mouth. “We’re playing _Paper Mario_ and eating those chocolate cookies. That’s what we’re doing tonight.”

“Pop?” Kurt asks after he swallows the bite in his mouth. “I’ll meet you in there, I suppose. After you get our cookies.”

“Right. You can’t watch me get them, or it wouldn’t be a good hiding spot!”

Kurt smiles and waves Finn off, finishing his plate before walking into the living room and sitting on the sofa. He picks up one of the Wiimotes and waits for Finn to return with the cookies. When Finn comes into the living room, he not only has the container of cookies, but a glass of milk, which he sets down on the coffee table.

“It’s not for drinking,” Finn explains. “It’s for dipping the cookies in. I figured we could share.”

Kurt nods. “I will chance your cooties,” he jokes.

“You _hope_ you get my cooties, you mean. My cooties are epic,” Finn says. He picks up another Wiimote and then leans his shoulder against Kurt’s. Kurt sighs a little, relaxing for the first time all day, and picks up one of the cookies. 

“We should do this more often,” Kurt says after taking a bite. 

“We’ll have to rotate games, though, so you don’t get too good at any of them,” Finn says. “It’s not fair for you to be better at me in everything.”

“You’re also better at eating?” Kurt offers, grinning.

“That’s because of my can-do attitude,” Finn says, shrugging. “Now, you should login as Burt so we can play more of the game. He didn’t get really far before he got mad at how the controllers worked.”

Kurt laughs. “Yes. I think he still thinks we should still have joysticks for video games.”

***

After their first performance on Friday night, Kurt walks quietly back into the theatre, standing in the wings and watching Blaine repeating the same dance move, over and over. Kurt bites his lip and takes the opportunity to watch Blaine. It’s hard to reconcile this Blaine with the one at Scandals, just forty-eight hours earlier. For once, Kurt had been thankful that he and Blaine were not in any of the same classes except for glee club; it had made it easier to avoid the confrontation that Kurt was about to initiate. Kurt wanted it to be on his terms, not on Blaine’s.

When Blaine doesn’t pause after another few minutes, Kurt walks forward, clearing his throat as he steps from the wings. Blaine barely stumbles, then freezes and straightens, turning towards Kurt.

“I didn’t see you come in,” Blaine says, smiling at Kurt. “I’m trying to work on these steps. I’m not happy with how I did them in the show tonight.”

“Mmm.” Kurt nods and lets his hands fall to his sides, his palms brushing against his legs. “Did you get home without too much trouble on Wednesday?”

Blaine frowns, and while he looks guilty for a moment, that moment passes quickly before he looks peeved instead. “After I walked for a while, I called someone for a ride.”

“Do you even remember much about Wednesday?” Kurt has to ask, because he is curious. 

“Of course I do, Kurt. I was trying to be a little playful and spontaneous, and the next thing I knew, you were yelling at me,” Blaine says. 

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’, then,” Kurt murmurs under his breath, not sure if Blaine can hear him or not. “I suppose that means I won’t be getting any sort of apology, then,” he says more loudly, looking at Blaine.

“I’m sorry you didn’t have a good time,” Blaine offers. “I’m not sure why you even wanted to go, honestly. I should have just told Sebastian we weren’t interested.”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “I meant for the attempted sexual assault in the car, Blaine. The fact that I said no didn’t seem to register with you.”

Blaine’s eyes widen and his nostrils flare. “Kurt, how can you say that! It wasn't like that. I know I was a little drunk, but I would never do anything to hurt you like that.”

“I said no and you kept trying!” Kurt retorts. “If you were stronger, Blaine, I wouldn’t have been able to get you off of me!”

“How can you say that?” Blaine demands. “That’s _really_ hurtful, Kurt. I didn’t try to do anything like that. That’s not what happened.”

“Unlike you, I wasn’t drunk,” Kurt says. “I remember very well what did and did not happen! Do you even remember what I said?”

“That you wanted it to be special, and Kurt, I do, too,” Blaine says, his tone almost simpering now. “But I wanted to show you how passionately I feel about you. Artie said Rachel and I didn’t show any real passion in our performance, because we hadn’t really experienced it yet, but you know how strongly I feel about you!”

Kurt doesn’t like the conclusions that his mind is drawing, not when he pairs Blaine’s words with those Rachel spoke to Finn. “So was Artie horribly disappointed in the two of you and tonight’s performance?” he snaps back.

“No, actually, we managed to find that passion without your help,” Blaine retorts, then he blanches. “I mean, we realized we had more to draw on _as performers_ than just personal experience.”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t arrange my life to better prepare you for a high school theatrical production,” Kurt says with a huff. “But I can’t be just your accessory, Blaine.”

“I didn’t need you to be my accessory,” Blaine snipes. “I needed you to be my _partner_ , but you couldn’t bring yourself to do that.”

“Oh, yes, when I think about being someone’s partner, having sex for the first time in the backseat outside a grimy bar—that’s what comes to mind!” Kurt pauses. “Excuse me, I forgot. While one of the two people is inebriated. That makes it much more passionate.”

“I thought that’s what you wanted, Kurt!” Blaine says, flinging his arms out to the sides dramatically. “I thought you wanted more spontaneity. I thought you of all people could appreciate how important that was. _Rachel_ understands!”

“Then why don’t you ask her to be your partner?” Kurt asks sarcastically.

“Maybe I should. She wears fewer layers,” Blaine snaps back.

All that makes Kurt want to do is plot out four and five layer outfits for the next week, regardless of temperature. “Fine.” He shrugs negligently, like his heart isn’t cracking a little. “Goodbye, Blaine.” He turns on his heel, walking in measured steps towards the stage door.

“Kurt. _Kurt!_ ” Blaine calls after him. “Kurt, come on. Come back.”

Kurt doesn’t turn around and go back. He doesn’t even look over his shoulder. He walks from the theatre straight to the parking lot, and he’s halfway home, reviewing the conversation in his mind, when it hits him. 

“He fucked Rachel!” Kurt whispers out loud. “Oh my god. That’s what he meant. He and Rachel—sometime yesterday or today. Because Finn and I didn’t sleep with them.” The rest of the drive is a litany in his head that he can’t erase, images of Blaine kissing Rachel back in February with the soundtrack of ‘Blaine and Rachel’ repeating. 

The house is dark when Kurt arrives, and Kurt’s somewhat surprised to see Finn’s truck, then decides that Finn probably went to the after-party at Breadstix in Rachel’s car. He closes his eyes and takes several deep breaths before heading into the house, already trying to decide if he wants to watch trashy television or a movie. He stops in the kitchen and then walks into the living room, stopping short when he realizes Finn is sitting on the sofa in the dark. Finn’s hands are clenched into fists, sitting on his knees. Rachel must have told Finn, too, Kurt thinks, and he sinks down next to him with a defeated sigh. 

“I can’t believe Rachel and Blaine would do that to us,” he admits. “Even to improve their performances, I didn’t think either of them would go that far. There’s nothing wrong with wanting it to be special.”

“I was saving up for someplace nice,” Finn says, his voice flat. “Now I don’t know that there’s any point.”

“I wonder if Blaine convinced _her_ that the backseat was a good enough place,” Kurt muses, even though the thought of Blaine with anyone else still makes his chest clench painfully. 

“Huh?” Finn asks, finally looking up at Kurt. “What are you talking about?”

“I thought we were talking about Blaine and Rachel,” Kurt says slowly. “What were _you_ talking about?”

“Rachel,” Finn says. “I thought Blaine must’ve said the same thing to you, about needing to get it done, like Rachel said. What were you talking about?”

“Artie told them they needed more passion. Blaine told me that they found it without our help,” Kurt says flatly. “There were other comments. Artie was the one that suggested they should find more passion, and not only did they take his suggestion to heart, they found a way to make it happen.”

“No. _No._ Rachel wouldn’t do that. Not even for her acting. And Blaine wouldn’t—he _couldn’t_ , Kurt! He’s gay,” Finn says. He shakes his head hard, like he’s shaking off the very idea. “You can’t really believe that. You can’t really tell me you believe any of that.”

“He thought he was bisexual once before,” Kurt says with a heavy sigh. “Also with Rachel. Ask her. Either way, I’m—I told him goodbye.”

“No. She wouldn’t,” Finn insists, his voice rising. “She wouldn’t do that to me. She wouldn’t do that to us. I know what I said about what she said, but she said she loves me, too. She said it was about that, too.” He bangs his clenched fists against his knees. “No, Kurt, you’ve gotta be wrong. Tell me that you could be wrong. Please, Kurt? I really need you to be wrong.” He looks at Kurt pleadingly.

“I could be,” Kurt admits softly. “But I don’t think I am.”

“Please, Kurt?” Finn repeats. “Not today. Don’t tell me this today. Please?”

Before Kurt can even attempt to formulate a response, the doorbell rings, echoing around them, and Kurt looks at Finn. “Would you get that, in case it’s Blaine?”

Finn nods and slowly stands, walking to the door and opening it. “Rachel,” he says, surprised. “I thought you were at the after party.”

“I came to see if you would come with me,” Kurt can hear Rachel saying, a strange tone to her voice, and that’s all the confirmation Kurt needs, at least. “It’ll be fun!” Rachel continues, her voice falsely bright.

“I don’t think I should come with you,” Finn tells her. “I think I need to stay here.”

“Why?” Rachel sounds confused, and Kurt thinks it’s almost convincing. “Finn, what’s wrong?”

“You can’t think of anything that might be wrong?” Finn asks. “Think really hard, Rachel. Think really hard about what could be wrong.”

“Finn, are you still upset about Tuesday night? I tried to explain to you what was going on.”

“Yeah, you explained how it was your business and had nothing to do with me,” Finn says. “I just didn’t realize how much you meant that.”

“I just meant that you didn’t need to worry about that, Finn. I’m so sorry you’re still upset.”

“Yeah,” Finn says. “I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry about a lot of stuff.” He looks over at Kurt. “You should go to the party. I’m sure Blaine’s wondering where you are.”

Rachel sputters and Kurt can hear her clasp her hands together. “Blaine? Wha—I don’t know what you mean.” Kurt can see Finn’s entire body sag, like he has seen something he didn’t want to see.

“Oh God,” Finn says softly. “It _is_ true.”

“What’s true?” Rachel tries to sound confused, but Kurt thinks it’s a waste of her time. “What’s true, Finn? What are you talking about?”

“You need to go,” Finn says, his voice shaking. 

“Are you sure you don’t—”

“No. I don’t, and I need you go to,” Finn repeats, already starting to push the door closed. 

Rachel’s last cry of “Finn!” fades away as Finn closes the door, and Kurt listens to her stomp her foot once before she goes down the stairs, presumably back to her car, though he never can hear it start. Finn leans his back against the door, one of his hands covering his face. 

“I’m sorry,” Kurt says, feeling helpless.

“I can’t have anything,” Finn says into his hand. “I fail at everything.”

“You didn’t make them do this to us,” Kurt argues. “Neither did I.” He has to believe that, has to think that the pain he’s feeling isn’t his own fault. 

“You don’t understand.” Finn shakes his head side to side almost violently. “I fail at _everything_ , Kurt. First football, and now Rachel? I can’t do anything right. I’m not good enough for anybody.”

“Wait, what? What are you talking about? I thought the team was doing well this year again?” Kurt feels like he can’t keep up with the conversation. 

“That recruiter. He came to watch us play. I kept thinking… well, it doesn’t matter what I was thinking anymore,” Finn mutters bitterly. “He told me there was nothing wrong with my football career ending in high school.”

“Oh.” Kurt can’t pretend to understand—he had no problem with his own football career ending abruptly his sophomore year—but he does know that Finn had expected to play after high school, had wanted to play after high school. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Kurt whispers, not sure what else to say. 

“I’m gonna be stuck here forever,” Finn says. “I’m not good enough for OSU. I’m not good enough to get into a decent college. I’m not even good enough to keep my girlfriends from screwing around. I don’t have anything. I don’t get to have anything.” He takes a deep, shuddering breath, and Kurt can hear him sniffle behind his hand. “I don’t get to have anything.”

Kurt can’t change what Blaine and Rachel have done to them. He wonders if they thought about it, thought about how they were leaving he and Finn in the same exact position, alone while their parents were out of town. He doesn’t know if the recruiter’s right about football for Finn. “Tomorrow,” he says finally. “Tomorrow I’ll help you search for colleges, Finn.”

“I was never good enough for her,” Finn says quietly, not sounding like he even heard Kurt talking. “I’m never good enough for anything. I screw it all up. I’m not good enough for anybody.”

“Come sit back down. We’ll figure it out. We’ll figure something out.” Kurt realizes he’s trying to convince himself as much as he is Finn, trying to convince himself that there’s something out there for himself, in case things keep going sour.

“We,” Finn snorts. “There’s no _we_. You could go anywhere. Everybody knows you’re leaving. You’ll go to some fancy college in some big city, and I’ll be here in Lima cleaning pools with Puck or working for Burt or managing the Sheets n’ Things until I’m old enough to retire.”

“Right now I might not be going anywhere because I let her convince me that applying to more than one school meant I didn’t want NYADA enough!” Kurt says, feeling panicky as he suddenly recalls the websites that all suggest applying to at least three or four schools. “But that’s me, not you, and we’ll figure something out for you, too!”

“Why aren’t I ever enough for anybody?” Finn asks. He slowly slides the door until he’s sitting on the floor with his forehead resting on his knees. “Why don’t I get to have anything?”

Kurt realizes that he might have to bodily move Finn away from the door, and then immediately realizes that might not be possible. He starts to stand up, intending to walk over to Finn and at least tug upwards on him, but instead he collapses halfway there, crawling the remaining three feet and slumping against the wall himself. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I can’t get the president slot. They laughed at my audition for Tony. They laughed, Finn. Is this house cursed?”

“We should burn it down,” Finn mumbles into his knees, following it up with a heaving sigh and a loud snuffle. “We should just burn it down with both of us in it.”

“I want to look pretty when I die,” Kurt says. “Even if I’m eighty. I think burning is bad for that.” Kurt sighs. “Did they think we wouldn’t find out?” he asks. 

“I don’t think they cared,” Finn says. “I don’t think they even cared at all. The show was more important to them than us. We’re just not important enough.” He sniffles again and looks up at at Kurt, his face wet. “Don’t cry,” he says.

“I’m not,” Kurt says. “Am I?” He puts his hand to his cheek, and surprisingly, his cheek is wet. “Oh. You shouldn’t cry either.”

“It’ll mess up your skin care stuff,” Finn says. “I know your skin stuff is important.” He reaches out for Kurt’s face and wipes his hand gently across Kurt’s cheek, then the other. 

Kurt presses one hand against his mouth, trying to muffle the sob that wants to escape. “We should have stayed home and exfoliated,” he says. “We never should have gone to that place.”

“I should’ve just done what she wanted me to do,” Finn says, his lower lip starting to shake and his eyes welling with tears again. “I just wanted it to be special. There’s nothing wrong with that. There’s nothing wrong with us.”

“No,” Kurt agrees, shaking his head slowly. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting things to be special and romantic and not _for a play_!”

Finn puts an arm around Kurt and drags him closer, so Kurt’s head is resting against Finn’s chest. “It _should_ be romantic and special,” Finn says. “Not in the back of a car. Not because you want to _get it done_ for a role.”

“It’s a bucket list, not a race to finish list,” Kurt says with a sniffle. “I wanted it to be in a house, with the lights dim. I didn’t want to smell beer on his breath.”

“I just wanted her to want _me_ , not some experience for her resume,” Finn says.

Kurt can’t stifle the half-laugh, half-sob that burbles up. “At least it wouldn’t be a line replicated by many other applicants.”

Finn holds him tighter. “Now she and Blaine can have the same line on their resumes.”

“Isn’t it unprofessional to be involved with your co-star? I want it to be unprofessional. I want them to have Artie say they have no passion.”

“I want them to stop eating and pine away for us like that girl in those vampire movies you love,” Finn says. “Only at the end, they don’t get turned into vampires. They just stay miserable forever.”

“Okay,” Kurt agrees. “Can they pine on stage when they’re supposed to be happy?” He reaches up to wipe away the tears that are steadily falling now. 

“The stage can be made out of pine and they can fall through it,” Finn says. He snuffles again, but he swipes his thumb across Kurt’s cheek to dry it. “You’ve gotta stop crying, or I’m going to keep crying.”

“Oh,” Kurt says quietly. “But it’s just us here, Finn.”

“Yeah, but I’m not supposed to cry about stuff,” Finn says. “I’m supposed to be the tough guy.”

Kurt half-heartedly swats at Finn’s leg. “I won’t tell anyone, Finn.”

“This sucks,” Finn sighs. He rests his chin on the top of Kurt’s head and puts his other arm around Kurt. “I’m sorry this happened.”

“Me, too.” Kurt sags against Finn. “I’m sorry we have—did we make bad choices?”

“Probably. I make a lot of bad choices. I think maybe we made sorta the same bad choice, though,” Finn says. 

“They could be twins,” Kurt realizes, wailing a little bit at the end. “Oh, god, Finn, they could be twins.”

“That’s… kind of horrible,” Finn says. “I think maybe you’ve got really bad taste in guys.”

“Maybe I wanted to try something different,” Kurt starts defensively, then sighs. “Maybe so. Maybe you have bad taste in girls, though.”

“Well, yeah,” Finn agrees. “One of them slept with my best friend and the other one slept with your boyfriend.” He sniffles again quietly. “And then there’s Santana.”

“Do we have to believe in a god to become a monk? Maybe one of those monks that aren’t Catholic. Clearly we can’t be trusted.” Kurt frowns. “But I don’t want to be a monk! Just because I wear layers doesn’t mean anything!”

“I like your layers. They’re all fancy and complicated-looking,” Finn says. 

“He said… I think what he was really saying is he didn’t want to rip my clothes off because of the layers,” Kurt admits sadly. “Or maybe it was just because of me.”

“It had to be the clothes,” Finn insists. “They look like they’re probably really expensive, so probably he didn’t want to make you mad or something. You’d be mad if somebody ripped up your clothes.”

“But I don’t wear the expensive ones all the time.” Kurt frowns. “No, I think it was just me. I mean, he says he’s gay, and he slept with Rachel. She has _breasts_ , Finn. And he still chose her.”

“Not very big ones,” Finn says, almost absently. “Not like Santana’s. Hers were kind of scary.”

“Do you want to watch a movie and cry? I want to watch a movie and cry and eat really buttery popcorn.”

“Yeah, that sounds like an awesome plan,” Finn says. “I’m going to go put on the ugliest sweatpants I own and that old McKinley T-shirt with the hole under the arm that Rachel hated because she said it made her uncomfortable to see my armpit.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with arms. How was she going to sleep with you?” Kurt shakes his head, mystified. “I’ll take off my layers. Even if I don’t have that many right now.” Kurt pushes himself up shakily, leaning against the wall before he walks upstairs. By the time he removes his clothes and finds some yoga pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt, he can smell popcorn popping in the kitchen. 

“Finn?” Kurt calls when he reaches the bottom of the stairs. “What are we watching?”

“Pick out anything you want,” Finn shouts back. “Except those vampire movies.”

“ _Breakfast at Tiffany’s_ it is, then,” Kurt decides, putting in the DVD and sitting on the sofa with the remote. Finn comes in a few minutes later with a huge bowl of popcorn and a couple of pops, wearing what would definitely qualify as the ugliest sweatpants and a T-shirt that is more hole than shirt. “I didn’t know they made sweatpants like that,” Kurt says faintly.

“They didn’t start out like this,” Finn says proudly. “I had to work hard to get them this comfortable.” He puts the popcorn down on the coffee table and sits down in the middle of the sofa with his legs propped on the table next to the bowl.

“Oh.” Kurt starts to laugh, and then remembers why they’re both dressed down eating popcorn together on a Friday night, and the aborted laugh turns into a noise that Kurt is sure a dying cat might make. “Well, I picked out _Breakfast at Tiffany’s_. I’ve never had a, um. Break-up before, so maybe it won’t be the best choice.”

Finn pats the sofa next to him. “I think we’re supposed to watch sappy movies, so you can walk me through the story of this one. Which one’s Tiffany?”

“Oh, Finn.” Kurt sighs and grabs a handful of popcorn. “Just watch the movie and I’ll clarify things afterwards?”

“Is it black and white?”

“No, Finn.” Kurt scoots a little closer when Finn looks at him like a puppy dog, and he presses play on the remote. 

“So what’s it about, then?” Finn asks.

“There’s a beautiful girl—so you should like that—who lives all alone except for a cat with no name. You might enjoy this movie, you know.”

Finn nods and leans against Kurt, crunching his popcorn and watching the opening credits. They watch the movie companionably for a while, Finn occasionally laughing quietly or saying “aww” about something. 

“We already ate all the popcorn?” Kurt whispers partway through the movie. “How did we do that? That was a lot of popcorn.”

“It was probably me,” Finn says, though he sounds like he might be humoring Kurt. “Should I get more?”

“I should pause the movie while you do,” Kurt decides, and he does pause it, looking hopefully at Finn. Finn gives Kurt a half-smile and shakes his head, but he gets up and goes into the kitchen to make more popcorn. When he comes back in with popcorn a few minutes later, he lies down on his side across the whole sofa, bumping Kurt forward. Kurt frowns at Finn, his nose wrinkling.

“What?” Finn asks innocently. “I guess you can lie down or perch on the edge. Your call, dude.”

Kurt huffs and restarts the movie, perched on the edge of the sofa, but after ten minutes or so, he sighs and lies down next to Finn. “This sofa isn’t very wide.”

“Yeah, neither are you.”

“I still feel like I’m going to roll off,” Kurt complains, shifting slightly.

Finn throws his arm over Kurt and pulls him close, so Kurt’s back is flush against Finn’s chest. “Better?”

“Yes,” Kurt manages after a moment. He was this close to Blaine on Wednesday night, when they were dancing. He doesn’t get this close to many people, not like this, his back to someone else’s chest.

“So why’s that lady want to feed Holly to the yak?” Finn asks, and his voice makes his chest rumble, Kurt feeling it all down his back. It takes more self-control than Kurt would like to admit not to shiver at the sensation. “Are you okay? If you’re cold, I can grab the blanket,” Finn says. 

“I’m fine,” Kurt says softly. “She’s jealous and drunk.”

“She should drink less, then. Makes her an asshole,” Finn says, lifting his chin so it rests on top of Kurt’s head. “Oh shit, she fell down pretty hard!”

“Mmmhmm,” Kurt agrees, his brain screaming at him. He just broke up with Blaine. He is so far beyond his sophomore year crush on Finn. Just because they’re mutually suffering and comforting one another—it doesn’t mean anything, Kurt tells himself. It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean _anything_. Kurt shifts, still feeling like he could almost roll off the sofa at any point. Finn’s arm tightens around Kurt, his hand splaying in the center of Kurt’s chest.

“Don’t fall,” Finn says. 

“That would be the preferred outcome,” Kurt agrees, and he tries to slow his breathing down. Just because Finn is pressed against him, his hand on Kurt’s chest, doesn’t mean Kurt has to ruin the evening.

“Did that scare you?” Finn asks, with a soft chuckle. “Your heart’s pounding. I won’t let you hit the ground, I promise.”

“Sorry,” Kurt whispers. “I know.” Kurt’s sure that this is the kind of situation where a friend would tell him to get up and go to bed, to put distance between himself and Finn immediately, for so many reasons. Because Kurt only ended things with Blaine hours earlier, because he and Finn live in the same house, and because Finn isn’t gay. Kurt doesn’t move, though.

“You sure you’re doing okay?”

“Better than I thought I would be,” Kurt admits. Entire minutes are passing without him thinking about the evening’s earlier events.

“Yeah, me too,” Finn murmurs, his mouth closer to Kurt’s ear than seems like a good idea. “This is nice.”

There’s not much to say to that, because it _is_ nice. “Yes,” Kurt says. “It is.”

“Mmhmm,” Finn says, and after a few more minutes, his breathing slows and becomes deep and even. Kurt shakes his head minutely and closes his own eyes after a minute. 

When he wakes up, it’s pitch-black, the DVD apparently having ended and turned itself off. He and Finn are still on the sofa, Finn molded against him. “Finn?” Kurt murmurs. Finn replies with a muffled grumble and pulls Kurt more tightly against his chest, moving his body against Kurt’s slightly.

Oh. If Kurt’s honest with himself, this is what he’s wanted. It’s what he wanted with Finn, and it’s what he wanted with Blaine—just to be so close to someone else that there’s no space between them, feeling secure. He almost feels guilty as he deliberately moves, letting his back press against Finn’s chest more tightly.

Finn’s hand, still splayed on Kurt’s chest, flexes, fingers spreading and then tightening in Kurt’s shirt. Finn’s hips rock forward, and Kurt can suddenly feel Finn’s erection pressed against him. It doesn’t mean anything, Kurt reminds himself. They’ve both been asleep, and it doesn’t mean anything, even if some part of Kurt wants it to. Kurt moves again, because Finn’s asleep and Kurt was asleep and Kurt just established that it doesn’t mean anything. 

Finn exhales loudly once, then snuffles against Kurt’s hair. Another few moments pass, and Finn mumbles, “MmmKurt, you’re warm.”

Kurt can feel his eyes widen. Finn knows it’s Kurt. Finn is still holding him. Finn is still pressed against him. Kurt makes a mental note to ask someone to forgive him for what he’s about to do, and very deliberately moves his body against Finn. He means to make the movement small enough that he could pretend to still be asleep, but everything feels so good that he doesn’t stop, wiggling and feeling the warmth from Finn’s skin radiating.

Finn moans, his hand tightening its grip on the front of Kurt’s shirt, and he arches his body along Kurt’s, grinding his erection against Kurt’s butt. Kurt exhales and puts his hand over Finn’s, not believing how daring he’s managing to be. He slides Finn’s hand down until it’s not over Kurt’s shirt, but over his yoga pants, and Kurt holds his breath.

Finn freezes momentarily, then he starts rocking his hips again, and seemingly deliberately spreads his fingers over the front of Kurt’s yoga pants, stroking Kurt’s erection through the fabric. Kurt lets out a strangled gasp, his body moving against Finn’s still as he tries to figure out how best to keep feeling Finn behind him and his hand on him in front. Kurt closes his eyes again, determined to enjoy the moment while he has it. 

Several minutes pass while Finn strokes Kurt, then Finn starts grinding against Kurt harder and faster, his hand wrapping around Kurt’s erection through fabric of the yoga pants as much as it can. Finn nuzzles the top of Kurt’s head and then moves so his mouth is near Kurt’s ear again, and his breath loud and hot, interspersed with low moans. 

Kurt moves a little faster, desperate for something, and when he hears himself whispering Finn’s name, almost without consciously realizing it, he knows he’s so close. “Finn,” he whispers again, trying to sound like a warning.

“Shhh,” Finn breathes into Kurt’s ear. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” He moves his hand faster on Kurt, still rocking his own erection against Kurt. 

Kurt lets go of the last remaining tension at that, the part that was still holding back, and a moment later he comes, shaking a little and moaning louder than he ever intended. Finn's hand stills, then moves to Kurt’s hip, holding him firmly back against Finn’s erection. After another few minutes, Finn shudders behind him, groaning as he presses into Kurt’s butt through the two now-damp layers of fabric. After a moment, Finn’s whole body goes limp, his arm dropping from Kurt’s hip to dangle across Kurt. 

“You okay?” Finn asks softly. 

“Mmmhmm” is all Kurt can manage for a moment. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” he mumbles after a few minutes pass.

Finn laughs once and says, lazily, “Probably.” He nuzzles against the top of Kurt’s head again and sighs contentedly. “Ask me again tomorrow, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” Kurt agrees. “I’m going to go back to sleep now.”

Finn’s only respond is a muffled “mmmf” noise, followed by the heavy, slow breathing of sleep.

***

Kurt wakes up slowly. He’s warm and relaxed, held close to another body, and for the first few blissful seconds of being awake, he’s not even aware of who’s holding him or why. He’s just _safe_ , tucked up in a pair of strong arms. Slowly he remembers the night before, that he broke up with Blaine, that he said goodbye to him, and then he and Finn had—Kurt brings his thoughts up short. He and Finn had talked. They had watched a movie. And then they had done other things, things Kurt never really expected to do with Finn.

They were both hurting, Kurt tells himself, and they felt comfortable enough around each other that maybe it was even better that Finn had experimented. Kurt decides to slip out of Finn’s grasp and take a shower, and then he’ll go spend the day with Tina and Mercedes, just like he had planned. He does just that, making a face at the state of his yoga pants when he peels them off. He turns fearfully towards the mirror and grimaces at the state of his face. Crying and absolutely none of his usual regimen are not a good look on him the next morning. 

It takes Kurt two hours before he’s satisfied with his appearance enough to leave the house. When he steps out of his room, he can hear Finn in the shower, and Kurt nods to himself, stopping in the kitchen to leave a Post-It note on the coffeemaker where Finn will see it. 

_Spending the day with Tina and Mercedes; I’ll see you after the show tonight._

He signs it with just a ‘K’ and leaves with a little sigh, hoping Finn isn’t too freaked out about the night before. When he meets up with Tina and Mercedes, he lets a few minute go by before he informs them of the news that he broke up with Blaine. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Kurt says, as they gear up to ask him questions. “Please, girls. Let me wait a few days, at least?”

Tina and Mercedes reluctantly agree to let the issue lie, though Tina does ask if he wants to spend the night with her after the show.

“You shouldn’t have to be alone with just Finn for company,” Tina says. 

“I’ll be fine,” Kurt assures her. “Last night he made us popcorn and I put on _Breakfast at Tiffany’s_.”

“And _Finn_ watched that with you?” Tina asks, sounding dubious. 

“He actually made an effort to understand it,” Kurt tries to explain, but he realizes he can’t quite unless he spills the beans about Finn ending things with Rachel. Mercedes looks like she doesn’t believe him, either, but they let the subject drop for the rest of the afternoon. 

The three of them eat an early dinner before going their separate ways, and Kurt waits as late as possible to get to McKinley and get into costume. He walks towards the stage and sees Blaine and Rachel warming up, which makes everything hit him again. It’s bad enough that his now-ex boyfriend cheated on him, but to cheat on him with _Rachel_. Rachel who at the beginning of the year was fully on his team, Rachel who is now betraying him repeatedly, using him as just another stepping-stone on what she perceives as her destined path to stardom. Kurt stands in the shadows, watching them continue to warm up until Artie approaches the pair, complimenting them on their performances the night before. 

Kurt reaches up to wipe at his eyes, then sags a little, realizing he’s going to have to redo all of his stage makeup; he had been standing there crying longer than he had thought. It’s all Kurt can do to make it through the performance; as soon as they take their bows, he hurries to his assigned dressing area, removing his costume and stage make-up as fast as he can before he slips into the parking lot. Some of those who attended the performance are still in the parking lot, chatting, and Kurt drives away without looking at any of them. He can’t handle any more people. He just wants to go home, and possibly eat something, because his early dinner is long gone. 

“Hello?” Kurt calls as he steps into the house, heading for the kitchen.

“Hey,” Finn calls back from the kitchen. “There’s coffee. I know it’s late but I wanted coffee.”

“Coffee sounds good,” Kurt admits, stepping into the kitchen and taking a deep breath. “Smells good, too.”

“It’s some kind of fall flavor. Spiced nutty caramel apple pumpkin,” Finn says. “Probably not all of those, but I can’t remember exactly which combination it was supposed to be.”

“It’s not decaf, and I like all of those things, so it will work,” Kurt says, getting out a mug and pouring some of the coffee into it. 

“So…” Finn begins, staring down at this coffee mug and turning it in his hands. 

Kurt winces, anticipating the freaking out that he’s been avoiding all day. “So?” he repeats cautiously.

“I probably owe you an apology,” Finn says. 

“For what?” Kurt asks, trying to keep his voice light instead of filled with some form of dread.

“You probably could’ve used someone there for you tonight at the musical,” Finn says. “I was thinking about going, but then I just… didn’t. I didn’t think I could sit through their duets without punching something. But you had to, and that sucks, so, sorry I left you high and dry like that.”

“Oh.” Kurt exhales. “It’s okay. I played solitaire and sudoku when I wasn’t on stage, which is more of the musical than not. I didn’t even have a musical number. I’m too much of a ‘lady’ and Blaine is so masculine by comparison,” Kurt adds bitterly. 

“Yeah, apparently he’s more masculine than both of us,” Finn says, with equal bitterness. “God, this sucks.”

“Yes.” Kurt sighs as he realizes he’s starting to cry, again, and he forces himself to put down his mug and open the refrigerator. “I want a sandwich. Do you want a sandwich?”

“I always want a sandwich,” Finn says. “I’ll get down some plates for us.” He stands and walks over to the cabinet, pulling down two plates. 

Kurt starts getting things out of the refrigerator and setting them on the counter. “Tina and Mercedes wanted to know _why_ , but I couldn’t tell them. It’s so _embarrasing_.”

“I haven’t told anybody yet. Except for you, I mean, but I didn’t really have to tell you.”

“I didn’t mention you. I suppose they’ll make up their own reasons. I don’t know if Blaine told anyone.”

“I keep forgetting it happened, you know?” Finn says. “I’ll think about it and it just sounds so crazy in my head, I think I must’ve made it up or something. This kind of thing doesn’t really happen.”

“I know. It shouldn’t have happened.” Kurt leans against the counter, staring at the jar of mayonnaise. “It sounds like we did make it up.”

“Maybe we’ll wake up tomorrow and it’ll turn out that we did, and it’s just now Friday morning and nothing shitty happened yet,” Finn offers. “That could happen, right?”

“Does that mean we could stop it all?” Kurt frowns. “I don’t know how we could stop it.”

“We could give them what they want, I guess?” Finn says. “Even though knowing what I know now, I don’t know how I’d be able to do that.”

“Yeah,” Kurt says softly. “Exactly.” He braces himself on the counter. “I don’t think I could, now.”

“This sucks so much,” Finn says. “I know I keep saying that. I don’t know what else to say. It just keeps coming back to how much this sucks, that they did that. That both of them did that to both of us.”

“Yeah. It does.” Kurt can feel a few tears slide down his nose. “I never would have thought _one_ of them… much less both of them.”

“I guess I always kind of knew Rachel would want somebody else eventually,” Finn sighs. “She’s going to be a star, and I’m not gonna be much of anything. I don’t know how Blaine could do that, though.”

“I’m not sexy,” Kurt concludes sadly. “That’s why. I’m so unsexy that he’d rather be with a girl.” He pauses. “Maybe they were right. Maybe I’m too feminine and that’s the only reason he wanted me to begin with.”

“I was getting in the way of her climb towards success,” Finn says. “She wanted somebody with more star power, probably, who’d do stuff just because she needed it for a role.”

“I should have stuck to what I knew. That I would have to leave Lima to find anyone. Then this wouldn’t hurt.”

“You’ll still leave Lima,” Finn says. “You’ll still find somebody.”

“It hurts, Finn.”

“I know,” Finn says quietly. He takes a few steps to stand behind Kurt, their bodies not quite touching. He rests his hands on top of Kurt’s on the counter. “I’m sorry. I know.”

“I know you do,” Kurt whispers. “I wish we didn’t.”

Finn moves closer to Kurt, so his chest is pressed against Kurt’s back and his forehead is resting against the back of Kurt’s head. “Yeah. I wish we didn’t, too.”

Kurt closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. This is a bad idea, he tells himself, but he isn’t convincing himself. It might be a bad idea in a week or a month, but in the moment, just like the night before, it feels like the only good thing in a day full of difficult things. “Finn,” Kurt says softly, almost a question.

“They can go to hell,” Finn says. His hands close around Kurt’s on the countertop. “They don’t deserve us. Not either of us.”

“They’ll end up working in…” Kurt tries to think of an appropriate fate. “Sanitation management. And doing community theatre in Van Wert.”

Finn laughs, but it sounds forced. He wraps himself around Kurt’s back and shoulders, leaning his head down so his mouth is near Kurt’s ear. “He didn’t deserve you,” Finn says. 

Kurt catches his breath. It would be so easy to get over Blaine if he would just let himself look at Finn again, instead. So easy to lose himself in Finn, like the intervening months didn’t happen. With Finn pressed against him, saying things that are almost exactly what he wants to hear, Kurt’s not sure he can stop himself from falling. 

“You deserve more than being a vehicle for someone else’s ambitions,” Kurt says firmly. “You deserve your own dreams, Finn.”

“I don’t have any dreams anymore. My dreams were stupid.” 

“But you will,” Kurt says, because he can’t imagine a world where Finn doesn’t have any dreams at all. “And they weren’t stupid. Some of them were lovely.”

“They all ended the same. They’re all nothing, just like me. That’s what I am, I’m just nothing. Everybody else has plans and dreams, and I don’t have _anything_.” Finn takes a shuddering breath, and Kurt feels Finn’s tears dropping onto his neck. One rolls over Kurt’s collarbone and soaks into his shirt, and Finn grips Kurt’s hands even tighter, pressing both their hands against the counter. 

Kurt takes a deep breath, his voice quiet. “You’ve got me.”

“I don’t deserve you, either,” Finn says. 

“And if I say you do?”

“Fuck, Kurt,” Finn whispers. “What are we _doing_?” Finn doesn’t pull away as he speaks, and while Kurt listens for it, he doesn’t hear panic.

“I don’t know exactly,” Kurt admits. “But it makes it hurt a little less.”

Finn nods his head slowly. “Okay. Okay.” He presses his body more firmly along Kurt’s, rocking his hips forward a few times as he pushes Kurt against the counter, their hands still on the counter. 

“Oh, god,” Kurt says quietly, his body pressing back against Finn’s. “Oh. Finn.”

“I’ve got you,” Finn whispers into Kurt’s ear. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

The words are on the tip of Kurt’s tongue, and he wants to force them out, needs to ask them, because suddenly this isn’t enough. He needs more, and even if things go to hell afterwards, doesn’t he deserve something to go his way, just for a few hours? 

“Would—can we—” Kurt mumbles.

“Go upstairs?” Finn supplies. 

“Yes,” Kurt says, trembling a little. “Yes, please.” 

Finn takes a step backwards, pulling Kurt with him, then he releases one of Kurt’s hands, spinning him to face Finn and backing him against the counter again. Finn tilts his face towards Kurt’s, but doesn’t move forward. He makes eye contact with Kurt and holds it, and while he doesn’t make any conscious movements, Kurt can feel Finn quivering, his body vibrating as they keep staring at each other.

“Kurt,” Finn says, his voice low. 

“Yes,” Kurt repeats, nodding his head slowly but still maintaining eye contact. “Yes, Finn.” Kurt realizes that it’s too late to stop himself from falling, from losing himself again. “ _Please_.”

Finn brings his free hand up to Kurt’s face, running his fingertips down Kurt’s cheek before nodding. He briefly touches the pad of his thumb to Kurt’s bottom lip, and Kurt parts his lips, the tip of his tongue brushing against Finn’s thumb. Kurt can feel himself shake and he collapses against Finn. 

“Upstairs,” Finn says again. He supports most of Kurt’s weight with one arm, pulling him away from the counter. 

Kurt isn’t sure how they make it upstairs, but they do, up the stairs and down the hall, to his bed, and Kurt falls back on it, pulling Finn with him. “You—I need—We want this,” he finally says, eyes back on Finn, needing confirmation one more time.

Finn nods. “We should have something good.”

“Okay.” Kurt puts his arms around Finn’s neck, pulling him down. Kurt softly brushes his lips against Finn’s, then puts his fingers in Finn’s hair, his mouth pressing harder to Finn’s. Finn’s arms wrap around Kurt as he kisses back, first gently, then more insistently, his lips parting and his tongue nudging against Kurt’s lips. Kurt closes his eyes, parts his lips, and hopes that if he’s dreaming, he doesn’t wake up yet. Finn may regret it later, but right now, Kurt can feel that Finn wants him, knows this is something they both want, and maybe things don’t get more special than that.

As Finn continues to kiss Kurt, he moves his hands up Kurt’s back, around his shoulders, and up the sides of Kurt’s neck until he’s holding Kurt’s face in his hands while they kiss. Kurt wraps his leg over Finn’s legs, pushing his body up against Finn’s as close as he can, and when he’s satisfied that Finn’s mouth isn’t leaving his, Kurt reaches with one hand towards his bedside table, then lets it fall to the bed. 

One of Finn’s hands moves away from Kurt’s face, and shortly thereafter, Finn takes Kurt by the arm lying on the bed, lifting Kurt’s arm and draping it across his back before returning his hand to Kurt’s face. Kurt grabs Finn’s shirt with his hand, and Finn lifts his torso up enough for Kurt to pull the shirt up, but he doesn’t move his hands or mouth from Kurt’s face until he has to let the shirt pass over his head. Kurt tosses Finn’s shirt to the side and takes a deep breath. 

“Can you open the drawer? In the bedside table?”

“Hmm?” Finn asks. He pulls back a little and looks at Kurt with a puzzled expression. 

“That’s where the lube is?” Kurt tries again.

“The… huh?” Finn looks confused, like the rules of a game changed while he was in the middle of playing. 

“Lube, we’re going to need lube,” Kurt tries to explain, realizing that Finn may not know quite what they’re doing. “I have some in the drawer.” He rocks upwards, reassuring himself with the feel of Finn hard against him.

“Oh. _Oh_. Okay,” Finn says. He blinks a few times like he’s trying to process a new set of information, but then he does what Kurt asked and reaches for the bedside table, pulling the drawer open and fumbling around without looking. He comes back with a small bottle. “This?”

Kurt nods. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s it. Just. Set it on the table for now?”

Finn reaches out again and sets the bottle on the table. The complicating object now out of play, Finn returns his hands to Kurt’s face and starts kissing him again, harder this time, his tongue tracing along Kurt’s bottom lip when he pulls back to catch his breath. He catches the zipper on the front of Kurt’s hoodie between his thumb and finger, slowly unzipping it. His mouth is just touching Kurt’s, not really kissing, but not pulling away. 

Kurt runs his hands down Finn’s chest slowly, then puts them on Finn’s shoulders and does it again, the pads of his fingers barely against Finn’s skin. “Oh,” Kurt whispers. “Oh my god.”

Finn freezes in the middle of pulling Kurt’s hoodie off his shoulders. “Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”

“No, no, don’t stop,” Kurt assures Finn. “Just. Keep going.” Kurt flattens his palm against Finn’s chest. “Ohh,” he says again.

Finn pulls Kurt’s hoodie off one arm and then the other, then he sits up slightly, straddling Kurt, and lifts Kurt’s T-shirt over his head. Kurt lies back, feeling almost self-conscious, and he stares up at Finn. Finn’s eyes slowly travel over Kurt’s chest and stomach, like he’s studying Kurt, and a few minutes pass before he very deliberately places his hand on Kurt’s shoulder and drags it slowly down Kurt’s chest. When he gets to the waistband of Kurt’s pants, Finn runs his hand back up to Kurt’s other shoulder and trails it down his chest again, lingering over Kurt’s stomach this time before stopping at his waistband.

Kurt can’t stop himself from smiling up at Finn. “Hi,” he says softly.

The right corner of Finn’s mouth lifts into a half-smile. “Hi,” he replies. “This is all okay?”

“Definitely okay,” Kurt admits, and he knows that the next day is going to be hard, and the days after that, but for right now, he has something he’s wanted for so long, and everything is completely okay.

“We deserve something good,” Finn says, his face suddenly serious, but his hands moving across Kurt’s stomach again. 

“Yes.” Kurt puts one hand on top of Finn’s, barely resting it there. “We do.” Kurt moves both of his hands to the waistband of his pants, unfastening them and starting to push them down as he captures Finn’s gaze. Finn rises up onto his knees and shifts slightly so Kurt can remove his jeans, slowly moving out of them. The little half-smile returns to Finn’s face and he looks like he’s considering laughing.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Kurt orders.

“I’m not!” Finn protests. “I just always sort of wondered how you got in and out of those pants. I didn’t know the answer was wiggling.”

“I don’t usually get dressed or undressed while lying down either,” Kurt feels like he has to point out.

“Me either,” Finn says. “But my pants aren’t that tight.”

“It wouldn’t hurt you to have tighter pants, you know,” Kurt says. “But that’s not really the point right now.”

“I can just pull my jeans on and off. I don’t have to wiggle,” Finn says. “I think my jeans are fine.”

“Well, let’s see it, then.”

“Oh. Uh, okay?” Finn unfastens his belt, but when he start to unbutton his jeans, he blushes furiously and his hands shake enough that he has a hard time unfastening the button. “Sorry. I, uh. Don’t usually do this with anybody watching me.”

“No, me either,” Kurt admits, reaching up with one hand to rest it on Finn’s wrist. “It’s fine. It’s good.”

Finn finally gets the button undone and then unzips his jeans, though he doesn’t move to push them down. Kurt puts his hand just above the blue boxerbriefs, letting his thumb move along the waistband as he looks at Finn. Slowly, he tugs on Finn’s jeans with his other hand, then moves both hands away, looking expectantly up at Finn. Finn hooks his thumbs in his jeans and pulls his jeans down as far as he can while still straddling Kurt, then balances awkwardly on one knee while he removes one legs from the jeans, then shifting to the other knee to kick the jeans off his other leg. 

“There wasn’t any wiggling, at least,” Finn mutters. 

Kurt takes a deep breath and puts his hand on the blue cotton stretching over Finn’s erection. He moves his palm up and down it twice, his fingers curling slightly. “I want these off,” Kurt says quietly, and he’s momentarily proud that his voice doesn’t shake, like he feels that it could.

Finn moans, his eyes closing, and he doesn’t respond to Kurt immediately. Kurt can see his words slowly register with Finn, whose eyes open again, looking down at Kurt. “Okay,” Finn says, and _his_ voice does shake. He blushes again as he starts to remove his boxerbriefs, repeating the awkward one-knee balancing act to get them off. By the time the boxerbriefs hit the floor, Finn’s face is bright red. 

“Would you?” Kurt gestures to his own underwear. Finn nods without quite making eye contact with Kurt, and slowly pulls Kurt’s underwear down his hips, moving backwards as he pulls them over Kurt’s thighs, and shifting to the side to finally get them all the way off and discard them to the floor. 

Kurt takes Finn’s hand, pulling him back down, lifting his head to bring their lips together again. Finn lowers himself until his body is flush against Kurt’s, supporting his weight on one elbow while he kisses Kurt. As the kiss becomes more heated, Finn rocks his hips, and Finn’s erection drags against Kurt’s without anything between them. 

Finn breaks away from the kiss to groan “ _Kurt_ ” before burying one hand in Kurt’s hair and pulling him up into a rougher kiss. Kurt puts both hands in Finn’s hair, wrapping his legs around Finn again, and he pushes up against Finn, bringing their erections together again. Kurt lets his mouth open wider, pulling on Finn’s hair, and he decides that he needs more. 

He pulls his mouth away, turning his head to the side so he can whisper “More, I need more.”

“More what?” Finn pants. “Tell me what and I’ll give you more of it.”

Kurt looks to the side. “Put some of that on your finger.” Kurt shifts his hips. “Then gently, inside me.”

Finn looks a little startled, but he nods and reaches for the bottle of lube on the bedside table. He flips the cap up and squeezes the bottle, squirting four times too much lube onto his hand. Finn grimaces and then says, “Sorry. I haven’t done this before.”

Kurt giggles softly. “Neither have I.”

Finn sits up and looks between his hand and Kurt a few times before asking, “So, are you, you know, comfortable? In a comfortable way of lying there, I mean?”

Kurt nods, shifting his legs slightly. “I’m good.”

Finn takes a deep breath, looking resolved. He tentatively touches his finger to Kurt’s entrance, slipping just the tip inside. “Like this?”

“Yes.” Kurt nods, holding himself still. “Like that.”

Finn moves his finger deeper. “You like it?”

Kurt catches his breath and nods. “Yeah. That’s, it’s good.”

“Should I—do you want more?” Finn asks.

“Yeah. Slow,” Kurt tells him, moving his hips slightly. “Yes.”

Finn slowly continues pushing his finger into Kurt, watching Kurt’s face intently as he moves his hand. Kurt moves again, biting his lip. He’s tried this with his own fingers a few times, but it was nothing like this. 

“Kiss me again?”

“Yeah,” Finn says, and he leans up to kiss Kurt. He licks Kurt’s bottom lip, nudges his mouth open to suck Kurt’s tongue into his mouth, then pulls back to lap at Kurt’s lip again, still moving his finger inside Kurt so slowly. 

Kurt runs his fingers through Finn’s hair again, trying to memorize every sensation. He pushes into Finn’s movements a few times before breaking from the kiss. “Another one?”

“Another kiss?”

“Mmm, that too, but I meant another finger.”

Finn nods, and he withdraws the finger inside Kurt, carefully pushing it back inside with a second finger, even more slowly than the first time. “That feels good?” Finn asks. 

“Yeah. Now you can kiss me again,” Kurt says with a little grin. Finn grins back and pecks Kurt on the lips quickly. “Finn!” Kurt protests.

“Sorry,” Finn says, though he’s still grinning as he leans down to kiss Kurt properly. 

Kurt takes both hands and holds Finn in place, rocking his hips as they kiss. Kurt moans into Finn’s mouth as his fingers slide out and back in, and Kurt can feel his body trembling. Finn moans in response, and the hand not inside Kurt trails down Kurt’s chest and stomach, his fingertips skating gently along Kurt’s erection before Finn wraps his entire hand around it. He moves his hands asynchronously, kissing Kurt slowly. 

Kurt’s body shakes, moving against Finn’s, and Kurt lets his hands drop to the bed slowly. He pulls away enough to whisper against Finn’s lips. “Now I need you.”

Finn’s hands pause momentarily while he murmurs, “Yeah. Yes. That’s— _yes_.” He moves his fingers inside Kurt a few more times before withdrawing them completely, though he keeps stroking Kurt’s erection. “Is there anything specific I’m supposed to do?”

“Put some of the lube on you,” Kurt says, moving his legs. “Just go slowly.”

Finn nods, and he pours more lube into his hand, managing to not pour half the bottle this time. He puts his hand on himself and slides forward so he’s between Kurt’s legs, positioning himself carefully, if a little awkwardly, and slowly starting to push forward incrementally, pausing after each slight forward movement.

“Are you okay?” Finn asks. 

Kurt nods, not sure he trusts himself to form a sentence. “Good,” he says, still nodding.

Finn flashes the half-smile again, watching Kurt’s face while he slowly pushes deeper inside him. His smile fades into a look of intense concentration as he continues to move forward, and once he’s completely inside Kurt, he stills, resting his face against Kurt’s hair and exhaling in a rush, like he’d been holding his breath.

“You?” Kurt whispers.

“This feels so good, if I move I might die,” Finn says, his tone strained. 

“Ohh.” Kurt can’t help smiling to himself, and he slowly moves his legs, wrapping them around Finn again. He closes his eyes and runs his hand through Finn’s hair and down his back. “What if I might die if you don’t?”

Finn makes a noise that’s terribly close to a whine. “I don’t want you to die,” he says. 

“Then you should, um.” Kurt swallows. “You should fuck me. Now, I mean.”

That elicits a whimper out of Finn, who starts to slowly move, pulling back slightly before pushing back inside Kurt. “Oh my God,” Finn says. “You—this—”

“Oh my god yes,” Kurt agrees, gasping. “You, ah. Can move faster.”

“You’re sure?” Finn asks. 

Kurt nods, moaning a little as he shifts under Finn. “Please do.”

Finn closes his eyes and rocks his hips forward, pushing into Kurt a little harder and faster, pulling back a little more before thrusting inside again. “God, Kurt,” Finn manages to say, then he leans forward to kiss Kurt again. 

While they kiss, Kurt takes one of Finn’s hands, guiding it towards Kurt’s erection again. Kurt can hear whines and moans and whimpers escaping as they kiss, and he’s not really sure if it’s just one of them or both of them. He knows that somewhere in his mind, he always thought he’d be in control of himself, but all he wants to do is abandon all attempt at self-control, rocking his body up into each of Finn’s thrusts, returning his kisses with equal fervor. 

Finn suddenly pulls his mouth away from Kurt’s. “Kurt,” he says, sounding almost frantic. “I can’t—I can’t—oh _fuck_ , Kurt!” He rocks back again and slams forward into Kurt, his whole body shaking, his hand moving on Kurt’s erection. “Kurt, God, yes, _yes_!” Finn cries out and comes, thrusting hard into Kurt. His hand on Kurt doesn’t still, though, and he keeps murmuring, “God, Kurt, you’re amazing, you’re amazing” against Kurt’s ear. Kurt keeps moving into Finn’s hand, his legs tightening around Finn, and as Finn says Kurt’s name again, Kurt comes, crying out loudly. 

Finn lets his weight drop onto one arm, sliding out of Kurt but staying mostly on top of him, lazily nuzzling Kurt’s ear with his nose. Kurt keeps his eyes mostly closed for a long moment, and then he smiles slowly. “Finn.”

“Mmhmm?”

“Thank you,” Kurt says quietly. “That was perfect.”

“Mmm. You were perfect,” Finn murmurs. 

Kurt giggles a little. “Okay.”

Finn drapes arm across Kurt, wiping his sticky hand on the blanket, then pulls Kurt in close, fitting him into curve of his body. Kurt keeps smiling, closing his eyes completely, and relaxes against Finn. “‘Night,” Kurt says softly.

“Mmhmm.”

Kurt can’t make himself stop smiling. He knows that in the morning, or at some point the next day, or maybe not until Monday, things will change, will go back to something close to how they were, but he can’t change that. He can revel in what he has, and he can’t regret any of it. 

Whatever else happens, he had perfect for a little while.

***

When Kurt wakes up on Sunday morning, he isn’t confused about where he is. He’s in his bed and Finn is still wrapped around him, which either means Finn is still asleep, or the freakout Kurt keeps anticipating hasn’t happened yet. Kurt’s room smells different, not just like Kurt, but also like Finn, and a third smell that Kurt realizes quickly is essentially sex. He shifts a little, thinking about the night before, and the combination of that with the time of day means Kurt is hard, harder than he can remember being any morning before.

Finn moves behind Kurt, stretching out his legs and snuffling Kurt’s hair before pulling him tight against Finn’s body. “Do you want to do that again?” Finn asks sleepily. “I’ll be better at it this time.”

Kurt bites his lip, trying not to whimper, and he nods. “You were pretty good already, though.”

“I hope it’s not like dancing,” Finn says. “I kind of maxed out my learning curve on that and I’m still not great at it.”

“I think it’s like—I have no idea, actually,” Kurt admits, giggling a little as he finishes the sentence. “But I don’t see why it would be.”

“Me either. So that’s probably pretty lucky for me, right?”

“Yes.” Kurt stretches. “We should clean up a little first.”

“I need to brush my teeth,” Finn says. “And probably shower.”

“I skipped my nightly skincare routine. Again,” Kurt explains, though he can’t bring himself to be as upset as he probably should be.

“Hopefully your face won’t fall off from skipping it twice,” Finn says. He sits up and raises his arms over his head, stretching. “Okay. I’m going to shower.”

Kurt nods. “I should do that too,” he acknowledges, wondering if Finn will put on clothes and go downstairs after his shower, like everything is back to normal again.

“I’m coming back,” Finn says quickly, like he’s reassuring both of them. “Okay? It’s okay if I come back?”

“Yeah. Yes,” Kurt says, nodding. “That’s good.”

Finn starts to stand up, then looks down at himself, and sits down again. “I’ve never walked out of somebody’s bedroom naked before.”

Kurt shrugs a little. “I’ve never had anyone walk out of my bedroom naked, either.”

“Maybe don’t watch me, so I don’t feel weird about it,” Finn says. 

Kurt smothers a grin but nods, turning his face slightly and mostly closing his eyes. As long as Finn thinks Kurt isn’t watching, maybe Kurt can watch for just a few seconds.

After Finn leaves, Kurt rolls out of bed, walking into the bathroom and slowly turning on the taps. He steps into the shower and sighs at the feeling of the hot water pounding on his back. He isn’t sure if Finn will really come back. It would be easy for Finn to get out of the shower and decide not to, and Kurt won’t blame him if that’s the decision that Finn makes. 

Kurt stretches and slowly starts to wash his hair. The feeling of his hands in his hair reminds him of his hands in Finn’s hair and Finn’s hands on him, and a large part of Kurt still doesn’t quite believe that the previous night actually happened. If he had scripted a fantasy for himself, it would have come close to the reality. 

Of course that’s all it is, all it was. One night, maybe one more day, of living in a fantasy. But it happened, and it was real, and Kurt knows there’s been a mark set, one he’s going to measure against in the future. At least he can feel good about making it that, since he knows that it’s not unrealistic. It actually happened, happened to _him_. Like Finn had said, they deserve something good. 

When Kurt gets out of the shower, he dries off and wraps a towel around his waist, then goes back into his bedroom and listens for the sound of Finn’s shower. After a moment, he can make out the sound of Finn walking downstairs, and he bites his lip, waiting for the inevitable sound of a door closing and Finn’s truck starting, or at the very least, the television turning on. He doesn’t hear any of those, though, and after another few minutes, he hears Finn walking back up the stairs.

Finn appears in the doorway, hair still damp from the shower, dressed in just a pair of sweatpants and holding two coffee mugs. "Hey, I made coffee," he says. "Thought you might want some."

Kurt starts to nod, then realizes belatedly that he’s still in the same damp towel, nothing more and nothing less. “Thanks,” he says, the word coming out more like a squeak.

“Did you want me to go?” Finn asks, after he hands Kurt the coffee. 

Kurt frowns, because he’s not sure what part of sitting around in a towel makes Finn think that Kurt wants Finn to leave. “No,” Kurt assures Finn, taking a sip. “I just realized I was still in a towel,” he continues, not quite looking directly at Finn.

“It’s nicer for a towel than my pants are for pants,” Finn says. “So it’s kind of like we’re dressed about the same.”

“That’s true,” Kurt says with a nod, then shakes his head. “That actually made sense to me.”

“Probably because you’re spending too much time with me or something,” Finn says, sitting down on Kurt’s bed cross-legged with his coffee. “I’m starting to make sense to you now.”

“That does seem to be a likely conclusion,” Kurt concedes. Kurt isn’t sure if this should feel awkward or not; it doesn’t, not really, but maybe it’s supposed to, and he’s missing something.

“I didn’t bring up any food, because I didn’t know if you were hungry, and I didn’t know if you’d let me eat in your room or not,” Finn says. “So I didn’t bring anything. I could go get some, though.”

Kurt giggles. “That also made sense. I’m not really hungry yet, though.”

“Is the coffee okay? I made more of that fall stuff you like from the other day.”

“It’s good.” Kurt nods, maybe a little too hard, and he wonders if he missed the freakout. Maybe Finn freaked out in the shower. Maybe the coffee is to soften the inevitable blow.

“So…” Finn takes another sip of his coffee. 

“So,” Kurt repeats. “Um. I don’t know what the appropriate protocol is.”

“It’s just coffee. You just drink it. When you’re done, you give me the mug and I’ll take it back to the kitchen,” Finn says. “So, you slept okay?”

“Yes.” Kurt tilts his head and then shakes it, just barely moving it. “I slept rather well, actually. You?”

“Yeah, I slept great,” Finn says, nodding. “Are you, you know. Okay this morning? Not, uh. Sore or anything?”

“I’m fine. I’m good.” Kurt takes another sip of coffee, trying to decide if this counts as awkward or not. It probably should. It doesn’t feel awkward like he would have thought, though.

“So… ”

“Yes?” Kurt’s not sure what Finn’s trying to say. He doesn’t seem nervous, exactly, just slightly reluctant.

“When you finish your coffee, do you want to try it again?” Finn asks, with that hopeful expression he makes when he really wants something, and he’s trying to act like the ‘yes’ is already a given. 

That wasn’t exactly what Kurt expected to come out of Finn’s mouth, but it’s much better than anything that Kurt could have expected or even imagined, so Kurt nods quickly, taking another sip of his coffee as he does. “Yes. Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

Finn grins widely for a split second before taking another quick sip of his coffee. “Cool,” he says, after he sets the cup down on Kurt’s bedside table. 

Kurt giggles again, setting down his own mug. He tilts his head, locking his eyes with Finn’s, and slowly unwraps the towel around his waist. Finn pushes his sweatpants off his hips and down his legs, kicking them off onto the floor. Kurt shifts onto his knees, leaning forward and putting one arm around Finn’s neck as he kisses Finn. Finn slips an arm around Kurt’s waist and pulls him forward even more, kissing him deeply. Kurt swings one leg over Finn, settling on Finn’s lap, and Kurt lets out a little moan into Finn’s mouth as he shifts and adjusts his position.

Finn puts his other arm around Kurt, too, running his hands up and down Kurt’s back and sides, down to the slight curve of Kurt’s ass. He keeps moving his hands down until they’re cupping Kurt’s ass, and he lifts Kurt slightly, resettling him higher up in Finn’s lap. Kurt puts the fingers of his other hand through Finn’s hair, opening his mouth wider and letting Finn position him. He _wants_ , more than he could have imagined wanting something, and he knows now that even last night, it was too late, too late to keep himself from hurting. If it’s too late, then there’s no harm in continuing, and Kurt presses against Finn.

Finn doesn’t move his hands from Kurt’s ass. Instead, he spreads his fingers to cover more skin, and grips more tightly. He lifts Kurt again, moving him so their erections brush against each other. Finn groans against Kurt’s lips and mutters something too quietly for Kurt to make it out. Kurt’s hand grabs at Finn’s hair, and he puts his lips to Finn’s ear. “Finger, now, please.”

Finn keeps holding Kurt with one hand while he leans out to grab the bottle of lube from the bedside tabletop. Kurt can hear the clicking of the bottle’s lid behind him, then Finn’s fingertip traces around his entrance, Finn’s other hand still grasping Kurt’s ass. 

“Like that?” Finn asks him. 

“No, inside me,” Kurt says, pushing down against Finn’s finger. Finn slides the tip of his finger inside Kurt and stops.

“Like _that_?”

“Finn,” Kurt whines. “You know what I want.”

Finn laughs and slides his finger in further, slowly and steadily, until it’s completely inside Kurt. “That?” he asks. 

“Yes.” Kurt pushes against it, moving his ass in Finn’s hand. “Like that.”

Finn laughs again, pulling his finger and and pushing it back. “You’re wiggly like a little fish.”

“A fish?” Kurt asks. “A fish? That’s not very—” Kurt cuts himself off, still moving despite Finn’s comment.

“Those little bright colored fish they have in the cups at Walmart,” Finn says. He uses the hand gripping Kurt’s ass to raise him and lower him along with the movements of his finger. “You’re just like those fish.”

“But they’re fish,” Kurt says. “They’re… fish.”

“They’re fancy fish. They have flashy colors and,” Finn slips his finger out and starts to add a second on, “is this okay?” Kurt nods, and Finn pushes both fingers inside slowly as he talks. “And these long, wiggly bodies. They’re awesome. I like watching them move around and show off.”

“Fish aren’t sexy,” Kurt finally blurts. 

“They’re sexy to other fish,” Finn counters. 

“You’re not a fish!”

Finn shrugs, which lifts Kurt again. “I _could_ be a fish.”

“Okay?” Kurt pushes down and kisses Finn again, messily, then pulls back. “Tell me what you want to do.”

“To be a fish,” Finn answers, a little dreamily, still working his fingers in and out of Kurt. 

“Okay. You can be a fish,” Kurt says, closing his eyes. “Can you be a fish after…”

“Yeah, I could be anything after,” Finn agrees. “Do you—just like this? Do you want me to put you down?”

“No, like this, just like this,” Kurt says. “I can—we’ll just go slowly.”

“Okay. I think that’s… yeah, that’s a good plan,” Finn says. “Can you—you should probably, you know. Figure out what’s comfortable?”

Kurt nods. “I can.” He tilts his head towards the lube lying on the bed. Finn slowly withdraws his fingers from Kurt and picks up the lube, pouring some into his hand and then sliding his hand down his erection a few times. Kurt thinks for a moment, then nods to himself. “Can you lean back a little?”

Finn leans back, propping himself up on his hands and watching Kurt. Kurt moves slightly, putting one hand around Finn’s erection and shifting again before slowly lowering himself. He stops after moving just a little, taking a deep breath, and then continues. Finn makes a whistling sort of noise, and Kurt keeps moving until Finn is fully inside him. 

“Good?” Kurt asks.

Finn nods his head and makes a high-pitched affirmative sound. His teeth are clenched and the whistling sound is the sound of air passing through his teeth as he breathes heavily. He shifts his weight onto one arm, bringing his other hand up to hold Kurt by the hip. 

Kurt pushes himself up just a bit and then lowers himself back down. “Can you—can we move enough like this?”

“No idea,” Finn says, still through his teeth. 

“Me either,” Kurt admits. He shifts and grins. “But this is good. Yes?”

“Tight. Very tight. Don’t want to hurt you.”

Kurt isn’t sure if Finn could hurt him or not; he wants to say no, that Finn shouldn’t worry about it, but he doesn’t actually know. “We’ll be careful,” Kurt finally says. “You—this feels so good, Finn.”

Finn breaths out, his jaw unclenching, and he squeezes Kurt’s hip. “This feels _amazing_ , Kurt.”

“Yes.” Kurt grins and moves again slowly. He pushes himself up, holding himself there before sliding back down, moaning a little. “Oh my god.”

“You’re okay?” Finn asks. 

“Yes, yes, I’m more than okay, oh my god.” Kurt grabs at Finn’s shoulders, his fingers digging in. Finn sits up more and puts his other hand onto Kurt’s other hip, so he’s holding Kurt with both hands, leaning back just a little. As Kurt moves, Finn guides him gently, raising him higher and pulling him down again. “Talk to me?” Kurt asks, gasping.

“You told me fish aren’t sexy,” Finn says. His hands grip Kurt’s hips more firmly, and he thrusts up when he pulls Kurt down. 

“That’s not about fish? For now?”

“But you’re like a little fish,” Finn says. “And you’re sexy.”

“Tell me about how I’m sexy,” Kurt says, pushing down. “Please.”

“How you move. It’s how you move. All the ways you move.”

Kurt moves one hand to rest on top of Finn’s. “Can you, oh my god, my cock, please.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I can,” Finn says, and he moves his hand to Kurt’s erection—his _cock_ , and strokes it slowly. 

“Oh, yes.” Kurt digs his fingers back into Finn’s shoulders, moving with him, and he can hear his breath coming more rapidly. “Oh my god, Finn.”

“I’ve got you,” Finn breathes more than speaks. “I’ve got you, Kurt.”

“I need—” Kurt breaks off, because he can’t put into words what he needs. He needs this, exactly this, Finn surrounding him and inside of him, and oh _god_ everything is perfect.

Finn thrusts up into Kurt again with a low moan, then he asks, “What do you need? Tell me what you need.”

“This, only this, so _close_ , Finn.”

“Faster,” Finn says, gripping Kurt’s hip and speeding up his hand on Kurt’s cock. “Please, Kurt. Faster?”

“Yes,” Kurt agrees, moving himself more quickly. “Yes, like this.”

Finn throws his head back, eyes closed, and he lets out a long, drawn out, “Fuuuuuck, Kurt,” lifting Kurt with his thrusts. 

“Oh god yes, Finn, just like that, a little harder oh my god oh my god,” Kurt chants, lifting himself with each thrust as Finn’s hand moves on him. The hand on Kurt’s hip tightens and Finn rocks his hips up, pulling Kurt down onto his cock harder. Kurt can hear himself still chanting, not sure what he’s saying, and then he comes, shaking and crying out.

“Oh fuck, _Kurt_!” Finn shouts. He thrusts up into Kurt in hard, frantic movements before pulling Kurt tightly against his chest as he cries out and comes inside of Kurt. Even after Finn stops moving, he keeps Kurt pressed against his chest with one arm, both their hearts pounding. Finn nuzzles the top of Kurt’s head, and Kurt can barely hear him when he murmurs Kurt’s name. 

Kurt lets himself sag against Finn, his eyes closed, and he breathes slowly. “Thank you,” he says softly. “Finn.”

Finn sighs and rests his face against Kurt’s head. “I could be a fish,” he whispers, almost sadly.

Kurt frowns, not sure what Finn means. “Okay, Finn,” Kurt says softly. He sits there in Finn’s lap for a long time, before he suddenly straightens. “Oh my god, Finn. I have a performance this afternoon.”

“Oh, shit,” Finn says, relaxing his grip on Kurt. “Can you call in dead?”

“Ms. Pillsbury would probably come to check on me or something,” Kurt says, sighing heavily. 

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“You can watch my stunning breakthrough portrayal of Officer Krupke,” Kurt says dryly. 

“Yeah, I can,” Finn agrees. “And then we’ll go eat something.”

Kurt nods. “What time does my clock say?”

“Twelve-fifteen.”

“Shit!” Kurt leaps up. “I have to be there in fifteen minutes!”

“We should put on clothes, probably,” Finn says. “I’ll go find clothes.”

“Oh my god, my hair,” Kurt mutters to himself, glancing in the mirror as Finn heads towards his bedroom. “I don’t have time to fix my hair. Thank god the costume has a hat, I guess.” Kurt pulls on the first pair of jeans he encounters, which he does _not_ wiggle into, and the first shirt and the first sweater he finds, too, though luckily all three of them match well enough. Kurt hurriedly pulls on shoes and goes into the hall. 

“I’m ready!” he calls out. “Are you?”

“Yeah, I’m just waiting for you,” Finn answers from downstairs. 

Kurt runs down the stairs quickly. “Okay, let’s go.”

“You look nice,” Finn says to Kurt, when he walks into the room. “Do you want me to drive?’

“Oh, thank you,” Kurt says, almost startled. “Yes, that way you can pull up to the door?”

“Sure, then you won’t be late.” Neither of them say much on the ride to McKinley, though Kurt realizes just before they pull up that he never did eat anything, and he’ll have to see if anyone has any food to spare. As they pull up near the door, Finn turns to Kurt and says, “They’re called fighting fish. They look pretty, but they’re the toughest fish.”

Kurt nods a little, still not sure what Finn’s trying to say. “I’ll see you afterwards?” he says instead, hopping down from the truck.

“Yeah, and I’ll see you on the stage,” Finn says. 

“Right.” Kurt shuts the door and heads inside, looking at his phone to note that he’s made it exactly on time. He puts a check by his name for the third time and then decides that far more important than checking his costume or anything else is finding someone with food that is willing to share. 

“Kurt!” Tina squeals. “What happened? Are things still on hold with Blaine?”

Kurt stops and blinks at Tina. “On hold? What? I told you, it’s over. Do you have any food?”

“I think I have some snack cakes in my backpack,” Tina says. “Blaine was saying something about the two of you trying to work things out, but you don’t look like you’re working anything out. Did you even comb your hair?”

“Shit,” Kurt mutters under his breath. “I, um. I took a shower this morning. Can I have two of those snack cakes?”

“Sure, I can get them for—uh, Kurt?” Tina says. 

“Yes, Tina?”

“Is there anything you want to tell me?”

“No?” Kurt says, looking to either side of him for some kind of escape route. “What would I have to tell you?”

Tina gasps. “You _did_! Oh my God, Kurt, with _who_?”

“I didn’t—what are you talking about?” Kurt says, trying to confuse her.

“I know what sex hair looks like, Kurt Hummel,” Tina says in a whisper. “Mike’s hair does the same thing. Also, you _smell_ like it.”

“Oh my god, Tina,” Kurt says. “I haven’t eaten since before the show last night. Please.”

“Okay,” she says, starting to rifle through her backpack. “But after the show you are telling me everything.”

“Nooo,” Kurt says. “No, after the show I am getting food, Tina Cohen-Chang.”

“I’ll come with you and we’ll swap gossip, then,” Tina offers.

“No, I—shit. I have a date.” Kurt shakes his head. “That is—wow.”

“Ohhh! Is it with _the guy_?” Tina asks, nodding her head at him as though to indicate ‘the guy who left you in this disheveled state’.

“How many guys do you think I can find in one weekend?” Kurt asks her incredulously. “This is Lima, not San Francisco.”

Tina shrugs. “I don’t know. If I were a guy, I’d have sex with you.”

“Oh my god. I am done.” Kurt snags the snack cakes from Tina. “I am going to take your snack cakes and go and we will talk _much_ later.” He turns on his heel and starts to head towards his area of the dressing room, now that he’s found some food. 

He doesn’t go far, however, before he literally runs into Rachel, who was barreling towards him from his right.

“Kurt, have you talked to Finn?” Rachel asks, taking him by the arm. “I’ve called and called, but he won’t answer his phone or return my messages.”

“I do live in the same house with him,” Kurt says, “but I’m not his social secretary, Rachel.” He tries to shrug her off, opening one of the snack cakes and continuing to walk.

“But did he tell you _why_?” Rachel asks. “I don’t understand what happened. He pushed me out the door on Friday night, and he wouldn’t explain anything!”

“Truthfully, we haven’t been discussing you recently,” Kurt says, which is true, depending on the definition of recent. They hadn’t mentioned Rachel or Blaine since they went upstairs the night before, and Kurt isn’t sure what the confusing mix of feelings that he’s experiencing means, now that he has to remember everything outside their house.

“Will you talk to him for me?” Rachel pleads. “And I can talk to Blaine for you. We’ll help each other get this straightened out. Please, Kurt? You’re my best gay, we’ve got to help each other.”

Kurt snorts before he can stop himself. “No, I’m pretty sure that’s Blaine, Rachel, who’s your best gay. I don’t _want_ you to talk to Blaine for me.”

“He doesn’t understand why you ended things like that,” Rachel says, taking on a tone of borderline sulking. “He’s miserable, Kurt. His performance last night was lackluster at best, and his vocal warm-ups today were halfhearted.”

“Oh, well, we can’t have _that_ ,” Kurt says sarcastically. “Everything must be of secondary priority compared to one’s stage career, right, Rachel?” In that moment, he realizes that maybe he and Finn were lucky. With Rachel and Blaine both revealing now what they’d be willing to do for a role or a performance, it may have saved either or both of them even greater pain years later. Kurt sighs. It might be luck, but it does still hurt, and staring at Rachel isn’t making him feel any better.

“Kurt!” Rachel says. She puts her hand to her chest in a particularly theatrical gesture of distress. 

“I have to go get into my costume,” Kurt says to her. “I’m sure you have tasks to consider as well.” Luckily, her dramatic gestures left her without a hand on Kurt, and he walks away quickly.

***

Kurt is one of the first people out of his costume after their final curtain call; he’s definitely the first person to return his costume to the costume ‘closet’ and check off his name on that particular list. He scoops up his phone and the rest of his things from the dressing area and then walks back towards the stage, where Finn is waiting at the foot of the steps.

“Kurt, wait!” Tina calls out from behind him.

“So, we should walk fast?” Finn says to Kurt as he walks down the stairs. 

“Yes,” Kurt nods, glancing over his shoulder and noticing both Rachel and Blaine are approaching. “Definitely walk fast.”

Finn turns to look behind them and gives Blaine and Rachel—but surprisingly, more Blaine—a nasty look. “Come on. We’ll get food. I bet you’re starving to death.”

“I stole two snack cakes from Tina,” Kurt says, “so yes, I am.”

“Kurt, wait!” Blaine calls. “Please. We need to talk.”

Finn glares at Blaine again. “No, you don’t need to talk to him,” Finn says to Blaine, then he whispers to Kurt out of the side of his mouth, “We should run. Fast.” 

Kurt nods his agreement. “Sprint up the stairs?” he whispers, almost giggling. 

“Finn, you shouldn’t try to speak for Kurt. I know you don’t like me, but you can’t interfere with our relationship like this!” Blaine protests, and Kurt shudders a little. 

“I don’t want to talk to you!” Kurt says without turning around.

“Come on!” Finn says, grabbing Kurt’s hand. “Run!”

The two of them do run up the stairs, Kurt laughing hard and almost tripping, and when they reach the auditorium doors, he hears Tina shout, “Go Kurt!”

“Oh my god,” Kurt says as they exit the auditorium. “It’s like the end of _The Graduate_.”

“But we’re not taking the bus,” Finn says. “We’re taking my truck and we’re going to Lulu’s Diner.”

“I’m getting waffles. Waffles _and_ a burger.” Kurt sinks into the passenger seat of Finn’s truck with a sigh. “Possibly a double order of one of those.”

“And a milkshake. You should get a milkshake, too,” Finn says. 

“Yes. That’s a very good idea,” Kurt agrees, then realizes as Finn pulls out of the lot that he’s expecting Finn to pay. Because Finn asked and it’s more or less a date. He shakes his head minutely and bites his lip, because this is definitely not going the way he expected it to.

“Did it go okay backstage?” Finn asks, as he pulls out of the lot and points the truck in the direction of the diner. 

“Tina said I had, um. Sex hair,” Kurt admits, giggling. “And Rachel tried to convince me to talk to you about her in exchange for her talking to Blaine for me, but I told her that I had no interest in that.”

Finn nods his head slowly and doesn’t answer immediately. Kurt starts to wonder if he should have left the bit about Rachel until later, or maybe Finn thought they should all talk, after all. 

“Do I have sex hair, too?” Finn finally asks. 

“I don’t know!” Kurt admits. “I don’t know what made my hair sex hair instead of just unstyled hair.”

“Probably my hands,” Finn says, sounding thoughtful. “Maybe my face, too.”

“Oh. Maybe,” Kurt says, shrugging as they arrive at the diner. “Do we still have sex hair?”

Finn grins at Kurt. “What’s the right answer?”

“No,” Kurt says, wincing. “Can you imagine if someone working for one of Dad’s opponents saw us out together with sex hair?”

Finn’s smile falters. “Oh. I didn’t think about that,” he says. “Here.” He smooths part of Kurt’s hair. “No sex hair.”

“Just police hat hair,” Kurt says wryly, climbing out of the truck. “What did I say, waffles, hamburger, and milkshake?”

“Double of something. I don’t remember which,” Finn says. 

“Maybe both. What are you getting?”

“I went through a drive-through after I dropped you off,” Finn confesses. “So probably just a burger, fries, and maybe some soup. And a milkshake. Maybe some pie.”

“Oh, do you think they have cheesecake today? I could eat that first.” Kurt grins as they walk inside and take a seat in one of the booths, most of the customers ignoring them. “An appetizer of sorts.”

“How about we’ll order some cheesecake, and then we’ll order your waffle and my soup, and then we’ll get burgers and milkshakes,” Finn says. “That’s kind of balanced out.”

“Yes, a very balanced diet,” Kurt agrees.

When the waitress comes the first time, they do order cheesecake, and every time she comes back to check on them, they place another order. The waitress gets increasingly irritated, but she laughs when they finally tell her that no, they don’t need anything else. Kurt watches Finn as he eats, and notices Finn rarely looks directly at him, but he does sneak looks at Kurt throughout the meal. After their last plates are empty, the waitress returns a final time. 

“How should I split the check, boys?”

Finn just looks baffled. “You don’t have to split anything.”

“Oh, well, who gets the bad news, then?” the waitress says cheerfully. 

“Me,” Finn says, sounding confused by the continued line of questioning. The waitress smiles at him and hands him the check.

“You boys have a nice day.”

“Thank you,” Kurt says, trying not to overreact. Yes, it’s like a date. Yes, Finn is paying. But yes, they’re both still hurting, and the bubble will burst. Kurt tries to remind himself of that, but it’s getting harder and harder to remember. Finn doesn’t act like someone on the verge of a freakout, if Kurt’s honest with himself. 

After Finn pays and leaves a generous tip, Kurt follows him back to the truck. “I’m not starving anymore,” Kurt says lightly. 

“That’s good. If you’d starved, that would have sucked,” Finn says. He opens the passenger side door without seeming to stop and think about it, then walks around to get in on the driver’s side. 

Kurt glances at Finn’s back and shrugs before climbing in and fastening his seat belt. “Yes, I would have been unhappy about that.”

“Probably you would have been dead about that,” Finn says. “That’s why it would’ve sucked.” He starts the truck and pulls out of the parking lot. Before he turns onto Spencerville, Finn reaches over and takes Kurt’s hand. “This was a good weekend.”

“Yes, it was,” Kurt agrees, because it was, despite the horribleness of Friday evening and everything else. Then he feels himself freeze, because maybe this is the prelude to Finn telling him how they can’t keep on like this. 

“When we get home, we should watch _The Graduate_ ,” Finn says. “We might want some popcorn in an hour or so.”

“Oh, sure,” Kurt says after a few seconds. They drive a few miles in amiable silence before Kurt straightens a little. “Dad and Carole will be home now. They had that breakfast and then Dad was going to shake hands outside that church that supposed is more liberal.”

“Oh.” Finn sounds disappointed. “We could watch the movie at least.”

“We could have popcorn, too, but not share it,” Kurt suggests. “With Dad, I mean.”

“Yeah, Burt doesn’t need at that butter,” Finn agrees. “They’ll probably be tired,” he adds, with studied nonchalance. “They’ll probably go to bed early.”

“Probably,” Kurt agrees, though now he’s starting to think the end isn’t coming as quickly as he’d worried it would. He nods, feeling Finn’s hand around his, and wonders what will happen the next morning at school, when they have to see Rachel and Blaine and everyone else they know. 

When they get home, Kurt can see that his dad and Carole are in fact back, and as they walk in, Kurt calls out “We’re home!”

“Oh, Kurt! How was the play, honey?” Carole answers from the kitchen. “Is Finn with you?”

Kurt looks at Finn. “I did say ‘we’, didn’t I?” Kurt whispers, then raises his voice. “The play was—well, the run is finished now. No more police hats.”

Carole comes out of the kitchen with a glass of wine in her hand. “Hi, boys. Did you two have a good weekend?” She looks at them both askance. “Did you have any friends over?”

Kurt shakes his head slowly, glancing at Finn. Finn shrugs and also shakes his head, “No, it was just us.”

“Did either of you go anywhere?” Carole asks, looking at Finn. “Overnight, maybe?”

“Nope. We were both here,” Finn says. “What’s up with all the questions?”

Burt comes down the stairs and rubs his hands together. “So did you boys have a fun weekend?”

Kurt exchanges a bewildered glance with Finn. “Why all the questions, Dad?”

Burt looks over at Carole and gestures with his hand in a way that appears to indicate he wants Carole to continue.

“Well, Kurt,” Carole begins, looking uncomfortable. “We noticed your room was in a bit of disarray, so to speak. And, well, Finn. It didn’t look like your room had been slept in at all.”

“We, uh.” Kurt can feel his eyes widening as he looks briefly at Finn. “We were both a little upset. About things. We fell asleep on the sofa down here on Friday night.”

“What kind of things were you upset about?” Burt says, now looking concerned. Kurt doesn’t immediately answer, trying to decide the best response, and Burt looks at Finn. “Finn? What were you upset about?”

“I, uh. Broke up with Rachel?” Finn says. “Because of… reasons.”

“Oh, Finn!” Carole exclaims. “What happened?”

“Rachel made it clear to Finn that he was a much lower priority than her stage ambitions,” Kurt answers for Finn after a few beats pass. “Naturally that was upsetting.” He pauses and bites his lip. “I—I broke up with Blaine, too. A bit before that.”

“Was this some kind of trend?” Burt asks, looking confused. “I thought you were happy with Blaine.”

“No, Blaine’s a douchebag,” Finn says.

“Finn! Language!” Carole says.

“Sorry, Mom. But he is a douchebag.”

“Yes. Well.” Kurt takes a deep breath. “So that was our weekend!”

“Goodness, boys,” Carole says, shaking her head. “I just don’t know what to say. When we saw the state of your rooms, we just assumed…”

“What?” Finn asks, giving Kurt a quick look from the corner of his eye.

“Well, we thought you must have stayed over at Rachel’s house,” Carole says. “And Kurt, we thought that Blaine may have stayed here.”

“Neither Rachel’s dads nor Blaine’s parents were out of town,” Kurt feels obligated to point out. “And, as we said. They are… gone. Since Friday.”

Burt frowns. “Well, kid, if you’re sure about that.” He claps both Kurt and Finn on the shoulder. “Sorry to hear that.”

“I’m sorry we weren’t here when you needed us,” Carole says. She pats Finn’s arm and then does the same to Kurt. “Did you two manage to keep each other company enough to stave off the blues?”

“Oh. Yes,” Kurt says. “We did. We, ah. Watched movies. Ate popcorn.”

“I accidentally left all the sandwich stuff out,” Finn says. “So we’re out of ham. And cheese. I had to throw the mayonnaise away, too. Oh, and about half the loaf of bread.”

Kurt starts to cough, because otherwise he would laugh. He had totally forgotten about their plan to eat sandwiches the night before. 

“Oh, Finn. Again?” Carole sighs. 

“Guess we’ll have to get some more tomorrow,” Burt says to Carole. “I’ll get my lunch somewhere downtown to start off the week.”

“Well, boys, it’s been a long weekend for everybody, it sounds like,” Carole says. “I think I’m going to finish my glass of wine and catch up on my email and Facebook.”

“That sounds like a great idea, honey,” Burt says to Carole, turning away from Kurt and Finn, and Kurt looks at the living room then the stairs before looking at Finn questioningly. Finn shrugs and inclines his head towards Kurt, seeming to indicate that he’s fine with whatever Kurt wants. 

Kurt shrugs as well and walks into the living room, dropping onto the middle of the sofa. “We can make popcorn in a little bit.”

“I thought they _knew_ ,” Finn whispers, sitting down next to Kurt. 

“I probably should have straightened my bed at least,” Kurt concedes. “We were in a hurry, though.”

“They thought you had _Blaine_ in there,” Finn grumbles, sounding offended. 

Kurt stifles a giggle at Finn’s tone. “I know he couldn’t have done that,” Kurt reassures Finn playfully, then bites his lip, wondering if he went too far. Finn doesn’t seem upset by it, though; if anything, he looks appeased, nodding his head once like it should be obvious to anybody that Blaine couldn’t have done that.

Kurt picks up the remote and half-heartedly turns on the television and flips through the channels, listening for Burt and Carole. 

“People are going to ask questions tomorrow,” Kurt sighs finally. 

“Are we gonna tell them?” Finn asks. 

“I was going to go with something about ‘Blaine did something unforgivable’, myself,” Kurt says. 

“I was going to go with ‘my girlfriend had sex with Kurt’s boyfriend, so now they’re not our boyfriend or girlfriend’,” Finn says. “Oversharing?”

“Hmm. Possibly? Though people’s reactions could be quite interesting.” Kurt giggles. “They probably wouldn’t believe us.”

“Well, whatever story you think we should use, I’ll go with that,” Finn says. 

“I did realize,” Kurt says softly, “in a way, it’s lucky we saw how far they would go for their careers now. Not years from now. Maybe that’s what we should say. We were not a priority in their lives.”

Finn nods. “Yeah. Yeah, maybe we are lucky,” he says. He puts his arm around Kurt and pulls him over so Kurt’s head is resting on his shoulder. “That’s what we’ll tell people.”

Kurt closes his eyes. The morning might bring more changes, the ending that he’s been dreading, but he’s had an entire day more than he expected, and he sighs contentedly. “Okay.”

“Do you think it’s normal to be really sad about something, but really happy about something else at the same time?” Finn asks, resting his head on top of Kurt’s. “And have it be okay to feel like that?”

“Yes,” Kurt says immediately. “I think it makes perfect sense.”

“Okay. That’s good. That’s good to know.”

***

“Kurt? Finn?” Carole’s voice is quiet and she shakes Kurt gently. “Boys. It’s time to wake up for school. You fell asleep on the sofa.”

“Mom?” Finn stretches, his arm still around Kurt. 

“It’s time to get up for school, sweetie. You two must have been so tired, you both fell asleep watching television. I guess it was a rough weekend for the two of you,” she says. “You looked so sweet, I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”

Kurt starts to move closer to Finn, then stops himself, rubbing his eyes to look up at Carole. “Oh. Oh my god, my face.”

“Did it fall off?” Finn asks sleepily. “I thought maybe the third time would do it.”

“Oh, you two!” Carole says, laughing. “Your face is fine, Kurt. A few sleep creases on your cheek.”

“Oh.” Kurt sighs a little and stretches. “Did you want a ride today, Finn?”

“Yeah. I can wait while you do your face thing,” Finn says, giving Kurt one more subtle squeeze before pulling his arm away. “I’m going up to take a shower.”

“Since you boys seem like you’re awake, I’m going to head in to work now,” Carole says. “I’ll see you both this evening.”

“Bye, Carole,” Kurt says, standing up. Carole heads out the door to the garage, and Kurt can hear the garage door closing behind her car as it pulls away. 

Finn stands up and heads towards the stairs. When he gets there, he stops and asks Kurt, “Are you coming with me or not?”

“Oh!” Kurt knows he probably looks surprised. “Yes. Sure.”

“We probably only have time for actual showering if you don’t want sex hair again today,” Finn says. 

Kurt nods and then giggles. “Maybe we could save the sex hair for after school?” he says, almost hesitantly.

“Yeah, that way you don’t have to explain it to anybody,” Finn says. Kurt giggles again and heads up the stairs, jumping into the shower before Finn. 

“Mmm, nice and hot,” Kurt says, grinning.

“That’s why you’re so pink when you get out of the shower,” Finn says, stepping in behind him. 

“No, that’s from exfoliating,” Kurt tries to explain. “And maybe just a bit the heat.”

“Okay, so explain the exfoliating thing again? Why do I want to scrub my skin off with, what is this stuff?” Finn picks up a bottle. “Apricot kernels?”

“Because the skin you exfoliate is already dead,” Kurt says patiently. “That’s why you itch. The dead skin is still there and shouldn’t be.”

“That’s… horrible. I don’t want that. I should not have that happening on my face!”

“Exactly,” Kurt agrees. “That’s an exfoliating scrub for your face. I have a different one for the rest of my body. That’s why sunscreen is important, too.”

“Okay. Because of the zombie skin, sunscreen,” Finn says, nodding. “And exfoliating. Got it. So, can I use yours, or am I supposed to buy my own? Does it come in different smells? Is there one that smells like strawberries, ‘cause sometimes I think I smell strawberries, but then no, I think it’s actually you.”

Kurt giggles. “Yes. There’s other scents, too, though. You might like some of them better. I mean, you could use mine, but you might have different skin sensitivities, especially with sunscreen.”

“The waterproof kind makes my face itch,” Finn says. “That’s why Mom always buys me the kind for babies.”

“Oh dear,” Kurt says quietly. “Well, we’ll figure something out.” Kurt picks up his shampoo and then hands it to Finn. “Would you?”

Finn squirts shampoo into his hand and starts working it into Kurt’s hair. “Is this special shampoo, too? It smells expensive.”

Kurt shakes his head. “It’s not that expensive. It is organic.”

“Your hair is soft,” Finn says. “Is it from the shampoo or does it just grow like that?”

“Yes,” Kurt answers, smiling. “And the conditioner.”

“Okay, lean your head back,” Finn says, and when Kurt tips his head back into the shower spray, Finn puts his hand across Kurt’s forehead like a visor to keep the water from running into his eyes. Kurt sighs, eyes closed, feeling suddenly content as Finn’s fingers push through his hair. 

“Mmm, that was nice,” Kurt says when Finn finishes. Finn puts his hand on Kurt’s shoulder and slower turns him around, then cups Kurt’s chin in his other hand, tilting Kurt’s face up to kiss his lips softly. 

After Finn kisses Kurt, he pulls away and says, “I don’t want to go back to the world.”

“No,” Kurt agrees, sighing softly. “I don’t particularly either.” The mood changes, becomes a little more somber, and Kurt spends enough time with his hair and outfit that he doesn’t think he should look suspicious to anyone. 

Finn wanders in and out of Kurt’s room while Kurt is getting ready, the first time wearing just a pair of jeans, the second time a T-shirt with the jeans, and the third time, a flannel shirt on top of the T-shirt. The fourth time he comes in, he has two plates with toaster strudels on them.

“Don’t starve,” Finn says, setting one plate down in front of Kurt.

“Thank you,” Kurt says. “Starving would be an inauspicious thing.” Kurt picks up the toaster strudel and takes a bite. “I suppose we should take these with us.”

“I think being late’s an option. Or not going. Not going could be an option.”

“Skipping homeroom is an option,” Kurt replies, taking another bite before examining himself in the mirror. “I’m not sure she ever really notices if we’re there.”

“Hey, but if stuff doesn’t go good in glee club, we can go join the Troubletones instead,” Finn says.

“No, we kick Rachel and Blaine over to them. We shouldn’t abandon Tina.”

“Okay. We could stage a coop.”

“A coup, Finn. A coop is for chickens.”

“Yeah. When chickens escape, they’re staging the coop,” Finn explains. “We could do that with Rachel and Blaine.”

Kurt tilts his head back and forth, then shrugs, grabbing his bag and keys. “Let’s go, Finn.”

“Okay.” Finn slings his backpack over his shoulder and follows Kurt down the stairs. 

Kurt finishes his toaster strudel on the drive, and when they arrive, homeroom has in fact already begun. The two of them walk through the mostly empty halls in the general direction of their lockers when Puck appears, falling into step with them. 

“Dude,” Puck greets Finn, nodding at Kurt. “How was it? C’mon, give me some details.”

“Freaking amazing,” Finn says, almost dreamily, then he comes up short and both Kurt and Puck almost trip over him. “Wait, no. That… isn’t a thing.”

“You and Rachel,” Puck says slowly. “That isn’t a thing?”

“No. That isn’t a thing,” Finn repeats. “There were,” he glances at Kurt, “priority things. That were in the wrong order.”

“Wait, so you were asking me about condoms last week and now there’s nothing?” Puck looks both shocked and almost impressed, and Kurt can feel his eyes widening. Condoms.

“Oh shit. Condoms,” Finn says. 

“Haven’t you—” Kurt cuts himself off. “Nothing. Nevermind.”

“I feel like I’m missing something,” Puck says, nodding his head. “Other than homeroom, which all three of us are missing right now.” Puck claps Finn on the shoulder. “When you’re ready to let me in on whatever was freaking amazing, though, dude, you should. I need some variety in my life.”

“Yeah, okay,” Finn says. “I’ll… do… that.” 

Kurt and Finn come to a stop in front of their lockers, and Puck continues on to wherever he was originally headed. Kurt turns to Finn and hisses. “Have you been tested?”

“No, I’m going to give you monkeypox,” Finn whispers back. “Yes. I have.”

“So we’re fine. We’re fine. Even though we completely forgot that condoms existed!”

“I didn’t think about it!” Finn says, still keeping his voice low, but gesturing as though he were speaking loudly. “It’s not like—” He cuts himself off. 

“I didn’t either!” Kurt says quietly, looking around. “We’ll just—” Kurt jumps as the bell rings, signaling the end of homeroom. “Shit.”

“Your hair looks good,” Finn says. “You want to meet me behind the bleachers after second period?”

“Not if you’re going to give me sex hair,” Kurt whispers as kids start to come out of homeroom. “Can you keep yourself from giving me sex hair?”

Finn looks like he’s thinking it over carefully. “Yes. Can _you_ keep me from giving you sex hair?”

“Let’s hope so,” Kurt says. “I have to go class now. And so do you.”

“Second period. Bleachers,” Finn says. “No sex hair.”

“Right.” Kurt grins and then turns, heading down the hall towards class. He waits until he’s about fifteen feet away before he glances over his shoulder to see if Finn’s watching him. Finn is, and when he catches Kurt’s eyes, he smiles at him. Kurt smiles back and then nearly bumps into someone, and he shakes his head. He doesn’t know exactly when he dropped into some kind of alternate reality, but despite what he told himself over the weekend, he really wants to keep it, to not have it end.

***

There is very little talking behind the bleachers after second period, and Finn holds himself to the promise of no sex hair. Actually, he wraps his arms around Kurt and holds his own wrists as they kiss; Kurt doesn’t display the same restraint and puts his hands in Finn’s hair.

The end result is that when Kurt arrives at their glee club rehearsal later that day, Finn definitely has sex hair. Kurt ducks his head to hide his grin as the remainder of the club, such as they are, enters the room. Noticing Kurt and Finn sitting together in the back row, Rachel and Blaine takes seats together in the front row, taking turns casting baleful glances back in Kurt and Finn’s direction.

“They’re looking at us,” Finn whispers to Kurt.

Kurt nods and waits for the two of them to turn around again, then waves, just wiggling his fingers. Rachel, whose turn it apparently is to stare at them, spins back around in her seat with a ‘hmph’ sound, crossing her arms and saying something to Blaine. Blaine looks back in their direction briefly and then says something to Rachel in response. 

Tina, seated with Mike in the middle row, turns to look at Kurt, giggling. “Your hair looks nice today, Kurt,” she says. 

“That’s what I said,” Finn answers her. “He’s like those fancy fish in the cups.”

“Oh my god, you two,” Kurt whispers, shaking his head. 

“Fish think other fish are sexy,” Finn whispers back.

Kurt bites his lip and smiles as Mr. Schuester walks into the room and talks for ten minutes about _West Side Story_ , followed by taking suggestions about how to recruit new members. They don’t actually do any singing before Mr. Schuester dismisses them, and Kurt contemplates whether it would be better to escape ahead of Blaine and Rachel, or to wait until they are gone. 

Before Kurt can make a decision, Blaine turns to him and said, “Kurt wait. Will you at least talk to me?”

Kurt sighs, settling his bag on his shoulders, and finally nods. At the very least, he can stop Blaine spreading around the ridiculous idea that they’re merely taking a break, or whatever he told Tina. “Fine,” he says to Blaine. “What do you want to say?”

“Finn, would you excuse us?” Blaine asks. Finn looks between Blaine and Kurt. 

“I’ll see you as soon as school’s over,” Kurt says quietly to Finn.

Finn nods, but he points at Blaine and says, “I’ve got my eye on you, Anderson. You’d better watch it,” before he walks slowly out of the chorus room. 

“What did you tell him?” Blaine asks, once Finn is gone. “He didn’t like me much before, but…”

“I think it’s more like he no longer sees a need to be civil for my sake,” Kurt says thoughtfully. “But I don’t think you wanted to discuss Finn.”

“Tell me what I did, Kurt,” Blaine says. “Just tell me what I did, so I can fix it.”

“Not everything can be fixed, Blaine,” Kurt says wearily. It’s true; regardless of their confrontation on Friday evening, Kurt had walked into it not knowing if he could overcome the events of Wednesday night at Scandals. Blaine had been drunk, yes, but that made twice that Blaine had been drunk and made extremely poor choices. The fact that Blaine had been motivated by Artie’s ridiculous suggestion to improve a high school production made it worse. 

Then the weekend had happened, and even if Kurt _could_ fix things with Blaine, he can’t deny that the sheer amount of passion he and Finn had between them was nothing like he would expect to have between him and Blaine. If he and Blaine had been intimate, it would have been sweet and tender and controlled, not at all like the experience with Finn. As much as Kurt had felt and still feels somewhat for Blaine, he can’t choose controlled over passion, not now. 

“And not everything _should_ be fixed,” Kurt continues, shaking his head. 

“Give me another chance,” Blaine pleads. "Tell me what I did. I want to make it right. Kurt, please give me another chance.”

“Blaine, I appreciate your wanting to make things right, and…” Kurt takes a deep breath. “I value your friendship. But I—” Kurt cuts himself off. “Finn could be a _fish_ ,” he says to himself. “Oh my god.”

“A fish?” Blaine parrots quietly. “I don’t understand. Why is Finn a fish? What does that have to do with anything?”

“No, no, he isn’t a fish, he _could be_ a fish,” Kurt corrects Blaine almost absently. “I’m sorry, Blaine. I have to go. But we’re not getting back together. I do want us to be friends.”

Blaine’s shoulders sag, but he nods his understanding. “Okay, Kurt. If that’s what you really want. I still love you, and if you change your mind…”

“I won’t,” Kurt says, and he realizes that it’s true. Even if Finn walks away, he can’t turn back around. “Please don’t wait for me to do that.”

Blaine nods again. “I’ll see you later, Kurt,” he says. He smiles sadly and then turns and walks out of the chorus room, leaving Kurt alone. 

Kurt sighs, feeling somewhat bittersweet, and waits another minute before leaving. He opens the door and immediately sees Finn’s back and Rachel dissolving in dramatic tears. Finn’s hand is on Rachel’s arm, and Kurt stops short. Finn had said that he _could_ be a fish, but his tiny ex-girlfriend is crying and making a scene, and Kurt suddenly wishes he had stayed in the chorus room a bit longer. 

“Finn,” Rachel is saying, “you should know, I wouldn’t _do_ that. Of course I didn’t.”

“But I _don’t_ know that. That’s the point. Even if it’s not true, it’s something I believed could happen,” Finn says to her. “It feels like something that could be true. It feels true, Rachel.” His hand drops from her arm. “I’m sorry, but I can’t be in a relationship where that feels like something true.”

“I’ll prove it to you,” Rachel says earnestly. “I’ll prove that it didn’t happen. How could it have, Finn? He’s gay.”

And Finn is straight, yet Blaine had sex with Rachel—whatever Rachel says, Kurt knows what Blaine said and how he looked—and Finn had sex with Kurt, not just once, and appears to fully intend to _keep having sex_ with Kurt, which suggests a degree of fluidity that Kurt would have never credited to anyone’s sexuality before. Kurt still can’t imagine _himself_ with a girl, but obviously some people are more imaginative than he is. He takes a moment to be thankful that Finn is apparently one of those people, and resolves that maybe he needs to actually think about the idea of bisexuality. Later. After this and after he sees if Finn thinks he could still be a fish.

“I don’t know how, Rachel,” Finn says. “Sometimes people just… _feel_ things for people. People they didn’t think they could feel things for. Maybe that’s what it’s like for Blaine and he feels something for you. Maybe the musical was just that important to him. I don’t know what _he_ was thinking, but I know that things like that can happen to people. Maybe he didn’t mean for it to happen, even, but I think maybe you’re a person he can feel differently about.”

Rachel’s tears renew, and it says something, though Kurt isn’t sure quite what, that she hasn’t appeared to notice Kurt standing there. “Please, Finn, isn’t there anything I can do?”

Finn shakes his head. “Just go be a star, Rachel. Not everybody gets to be a star, and you’re good at it.”

“Finn.” Rachel’s shoulders droop. “Isn’t there anything at all? Nothing? I don’t want to lose everything,” she whispers, and Kurt realizes he’s holding his breath. 

“You already lost me,” Finn says. “You lost me on Tuesday night when I found out I was just something to get done. I don’t want to be a box you check off, Rachel. I want to feel important to somebody, too.” He sighs. “I don’t want to be something convenient. I want to be something good.”

Rachel looks stunned, like she hadn’t previously considered that particular point of view. As if she hadn’t realized how it would feel to be the person on the other side of Artie’s instructions. “So we’re really over?” she says quietly.

Finn nods. “Yeah. We’re really over.”

“Are you—you’re going to get back together with Quinn, aren’t you?”

Finn starts to laugh, and Rachel looks offended. “No,” Finn says, through laughter. “I’m really not. I’m good. I’m really good with what’s in my life right now.”

Kurt can feel himself blushing a little at Finn’s comment, and he ducks his head, hiding a smile, just in case Rachel were to finally notice him. She doesn’t, however; she carries on looking a bit offended as she takes a step backward and dabs at her eyes. “Okay. Be happy, Finn.”

“Be a star, Rachel,” Finn replies. 

Rachel’s lips curve into a weird smile and then she turns around and walks rapidly away. Kurt lets out a deep breath, wondering how long he’s been holding it. Finn turns around and smiles at Kurt, not looking at all surprised to see him there. 

“How do you feel about skipping the rest of the day?” Finn asks him.

“I think that’s a really good idea, actually,” Kurt answers, giggling a little. “A very good idea.” Kurt starts to walk towards the exit, pulling his keys out of his bag. “People won’t notice, really.”

“I don’t care if they notice,” Finn says, shrugging. 

“Oh, I meant our teachers,” Kurt explains. “Though you’d think they should.”

“Nah, I don’t care if they notice, either.”

Kurt grins and unlocks the Navigator, climbing in and starting the engine. “Blaine thinks I’ve been telling you horrible things to get you not to like him,” he says with a little laugh. 

“You don’t have to tell me horrible things. I have a list,” Finn grumbles.

Kurt isn’t sure if Finn means a mental list or an actual list, in a notebook or something, and he decides not to ask, just bites his lip and hums to himself as he drives all the way home. Kurt turns off the Navigator and turns to Finn as he steps out. “You know, I don’t have to be anywhere the rest of the day. So, um. Sex hair really isn’t a problem now.”

As the garage door lowers, Finn walks around to the driver’s side of the Navigator and slides both his hands into Kurt’s hair, holding his head steady while walking him backwards until his back is pressed against the car door. Then, Finn bends down to kiss him, leaning into Kurt and pinning him against the Navigator.

Kurt giggles and turns his head to the side. “We should at least go inside.”

“Why?” Finn asks. “This is good.”

“Well.” Kurt reaches between them, putting his hand on Finn’s chest and running it down, stopping just above Finn’s jeans. “There’s nothing very soft out here,” he explains, “and we might get a little cold, after a while.”

“You’re out here,” Finn argues. “You’re soft. Parts of you are soft. Your hair’s soft.” He ruffles Kurt’s hair. “Your skin’s soft.” He kisses the side of Kurt’s neck. 

“Nothing soft for us to sit or lie on,” Kurt amends, tilting his head to the side as Finn kisses his neck. He puts his hand slowly under Finn’s T-shirt, smoothing the skin beneath his thumb.

“You could sit on me.”

“That would make it difficult to do what I had in mind,” Kurt admits, putting his lips next to Finn’s ear and dropping his voice to a whisper. “I want to put my mouth on you. If you want that.”

“We should go inside!” Finn says quickly. 

Kurt pulls back and smiles. “I thought so.”

“Let’s go, then,” Finn says, putting his arm around Kurt and piloting him in the direction of the door into the house. Kurt nods and lets Finn steer them towards the kitchen after they enter the house. 

“Hungry?” Kurt asks. 

“Yeah, we should eat first. And put the food away when we’re done,” Finn says.

Kurt laughs. “I can’t believe we forgot about that.”

Finn shrugs. “I can.”

“So what should we eat?” Kurt makes a face. “Since we can’t have sandwiches.”

“You should… sit at the table!” Finn says. “I’ll assemble lunch.”

“Okay.” Kurt sits down, still wondering what Finn will find. 

“How do you feel about eggs?” Finn asks, his head and part of his upper body leaning into the fridge. 

“No omelets for lunch,” Kurt replies.

“Nah, I just mean in general.” Finn comes back out of the fridge with an assortment of items. He gets a cutting board and a knife and starts chopping things with his back to Kurt. “I’m not feeding you eggs right now.”

“Oh. I like deviled eggs and omelets. Plain scrambled eggs, no. And definitely no raw eggs.”

Finn opens the pantry and paws through it, pulling down a few boxes, then he gets a plate down from the cabinet. After another few minutes of chopping and arranging, he sets a plate full of sliced fruit, sliced cheese, crackers, and what looks like gingersnaps in front of Kurt.

“I feel very European,” Kurt says, picking up a piece of fruit.

“Well, you like European stuff, so that’s good, right?” Finn asks, sitting down in the chair next to Kurt and picking up a cracker and some cheese.

“Yes.” Kurt takes a bite and chews it slowly, then leans his head against Finn’s shoulder. “You could be a fish,” he says quietly.

“Yeah,” Finn says, nodding. “If, you know. If you didn’t mind.”

“I think I’d like that,” Kurt admits, picking up one of the gingersnaps and just holding in his hand. “I really would.”

“Good,” Finn says, eating another cracker with cheese, and nodding his head again like the matter is settled. 

“So.” Kurt nibbles on the gingersnap and then glances up at Finn. “I think that sort of makes you my boyfriend.”

Finn pauses in the middle of chewing, his eyebrows slowly coming together and his face scrunches up. After a moment, he starts chewing again, then he swallows the bite. Kurt takes another bite of his gingersnap, but he doesn’t move his head off of Finn’s shoulder. He just waits, tense. 

“I think that we shouldn’t let Burt know about that,” Finn says finally.

Kurt starts to giggle as relief washes over him. “I think you’re absolutely right,” Kurt says. “Otherwise we wouldn’t get any more weekends like this one.”

“Is it okay for me to be a little bit confused still?” Finn asks, his voice quiet. 

Kurt nods slowly. “I might be concerned if you weren’t,” Kurt admits. “But it’s okay.”

“What about all that stuff I said to you before? The stuff I said sophomore year?” Finn asks. “What if you think about me saying that stuff and then you hate me?”

“I’m not going to hate you,” Kurt says firmly. “I—we _both_ had to deal with that before now. I can’t promise that I won’t think about it, but I am being truthful when I say that’s the first time I’ve thought about it in months.”

“Is this all really weird for you?”

Kurt tries to think of how best to put it. “It feels a little like I fell into a strange dream,” Kurt admits. “A good dream, but something unexpected.”

“Yeah,” Finn says. “It’s unexpected for me, too. But it’s good. I think it’s really good.”

“I agree,” Kurt says softly, putting down the rest of the gingersnap. “And now I want to kiss my boyfriend, if that’s okay.”

“You probably know how the rules work better than I do. I’ve never had a boyfriend before,” Finn says. 

“I’m pretty sure the rules say it’s okay,” Kurt says, and he reaches up with one arm to pull Finn down to him, bringing their lips together. Finn puts his hands on Kurt as they kiss, stroking down Kurt’s sides to his hips. Kurt smiles against Finn’s lips, then lets his own mouth open. Finn’s tongue slides along Kurt’s, his hands coming to rest on Kurt’s hips and holding him. Kurt’s fingers tangle in Finn’s hair and he holds Finn in place for a long moment before pulling back. “We should finish eating so we can go upstairs.”

“I could be done eating,” Finn says. 

Kurt grins and stands up, putting the last of the gingersnap into his mouth. “Okay.”

“It’ll still be here when we’re done, probably,” Finn says. “Fruit doesn’t go bad that fast, right?”

“True,” Kurt says, nodding slightly and reaching for Finn’s hand. 

Finn takes Kurt’s hand and follow him upstairs to Kurt’s room. As soon as the bedroom door closes behind them, Finn starts unwinding Kurt’s scarf, letting it drop to the floor. He unbuttons the front of Kurt’s jacket, but fumbles with the tabbed hook on the inside of the jacket. Finn works on the tab with both hands for over a minute before he puts his hands up in defeat.

“Your jacket’s smarter than me,” Finn says.

Kurt giggles and unfastens the hook. “Are you saying my jacket is sentient?”

“It feels like it’s velvet.”

“It’s neither.” Kurt lets his jacket slip off his arms before placing it on his desk. “I promise.”

“Does this one have any weird hooks or anything I need to know about?” Finn asks, as he starts pulling Kurt’s sweater over his head. “Is it attached to something else?”

“All of my body parts are attached to the rest of me,” Kurt says dryly. “Otherwise I think you’re safe.” Kurt grins to himself and decides he might have to consider how easy is it to remove his clothes, at least some days.

“I’ll have to practice on the clothes. Put them back on and I’ll try again!”

“Now?” Kurt asks, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head. “Really, Finn?”

“Okay, fine. Later,” Finn says, letting Kurt’s sweater fall to the floor. “Wait. There’s _another_ shirt under this one?” He pulls on Kurt’s undershirt. “Do you get really cold?”

“Think of me as one of those tricky presents?” Kurt suggests. “Where there’s a box inside a box inside a box?”

“And a Kurt inside the inside box.”

“Exactly.”

Finn pulls the undershirt over Kurt’s head and drops it to the ground. He runs his palms down Kurt’s chest and traces around the waistband of Kurt’s pants with his thumbs. Kurt twists a little, fighting back a laugh at the ticklish sensation. Finn does laugh, and mutters, “Little fish,” running his fingertips up Kurt’s sides. 

“Are you trying to tickle me?” Kurt asks. “Or just make me move?”

“I like it when you move.”

Kurt nods and shifts again, this time deliberately. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I really like it when you move,” Finn says. He leans over and brushes a kiss against Kurt’s ear, then along the side of his neck. 

“Okay,” Kurt says softly, moving again. He slides his own hands under Finn’s T-shirt, moving his fingers slowly in circles on Finn’s skin. Finn makes a soft humming sound and continues kissing Kurt’s neck, then down to his shoulder. Kurt tilts his head to the opposite side and moves his hands, grasping Finn’s flannel shirt and starting to work it down his arms. Finn lifts one hand from Kurt’s side to let his arm slide out of the shirt, then returns that hand before doing the same on the other side. 

Kurt puts his hands back under Finn’s T-shirt, slowly working it up and trailing his fingers over the exposed skin. When Kurt has most of the shirt just under Finn’s arms, he moves his head and kisses the center of Finn’s torso. Finn runs his hand through Kurt’s hair again, tugging on it gently. 

“You’re determined when it comes to my hair, aren’t you?” Kurt asks, trying not to laugh.

“I like your hair,” Finn says. “It feels good. It looks awesome when it’s sex hair.”

“Just then?” Kurt asks, looking up.

“Extra then, ‘cause I know I made it look like that.”

Kurt giggles and starts pulling on Finn’s T-shirt again. “Well, let me get this off of you.” Finn raises his arms and leans forward compliantly, so Kurt can pull the shirt over his head. Kurt tosses it aside and then puts his arms around Finn’s neck. “See, better.”

“Yeah, a lot better,” Finn agrees. 

“Do you still want? What I mentioned?”

“Oh. Oh, hell yes,” Finn says. He wraps his arms around Kurt and pulls him closer, tilting his head down to kiss him. 

Kurt pulls back and bites his lip tentatively. “I’ve never—I might not be any good at it,” Kurt warns.

“You’re good at everything,” Finn says. “Kurt, seriously. Everything.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence,” Kurt says, shaking his head a little as he works to unbuckle Finn’s belt, then unfasten his jeans. Finn puts his hands on the sides of Kurt’s face, holding him and gently tilting up his head to make eye contact. 

“Hey. Everything’s been perfect,” Finn says. “It’s all been so good, Kurt.”

Kurt nods. “It has,” he agrees. Kurt pushes Finn’s jeans and underwear down at the same time, then reaches out and curls his fingers around Finn’s cock. Kurt slides his hand slowly up to the tip, then tightens his grip a little as he moves his hand back down. “Good?”

Finn nods, still holding Kurt’s face in his hands. “Yeah,” he breathes. “That’s good.”

“You’ll have to let me move a bit,” Kurt teases.

“I like it when you move,” Finn says, letting go of Kurt’s face. 

Kurt nods. “You’ve mentioned.” Kurt kisses the middle of Finn’s chest again, then slowly lowers himself, kissing Finn again near the base of his cock. “Oh my god,” Kurt mutters under his breath, moving his hand up once more before grasping Finn’s hips with both hands. Finn runs both hands over Kurt’s hair two times before sliding his fingers into it and holding Kurt’s head. Kurt drops from the balls of his feet onto his knees, then slowly runs his tongue across the tip of Finn’s cock. He does it a second time, then starts to repeat the action again, this time moving his tongue over more skin. 

Finn’s hands tighten in Kurt’s hair, and he moans, rocking his hips forward involuntarily. “God, that feels so good,” Finn says quietly.

Kurt closes his eyes, covering more of Finn’s cock each time, until he takes the head in his mouth. He tightens his fingers on Finn’s hips and closes his lips around Finn, fighting his own impulse to moan. He hasn’t let himself imagine this exact scenario in a very long time, and part of him always wondered if it wouldn’t be _weird_ , having his mouth on someone else’s cock. It seemed odder to him at the time than what he and Finn have already done, but it doesn’t seem odd anymore. It’s so uncomplicated, kneeling there, touching Finn and Finn touching him. 

Finn’s hands clutch at Kurt’s hair, pulling a little, and he thrusts forward slightly. Kurt moves again, letting more of Finn’s cock into his mouth, and he slides one hand from Finn’s hip to the base, circling it with his hand and moving it slowly. Kurt twists his tongue around the head of Finn’s cock, listening to the noises that Finn’s making. The noises that _he_ is causing Finn to make. He opens his eyes barely, enough to look up at Finn and see Finn watching him.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Finn says. “Jesus, Kurt. That’s so sexy.”

Kurt can hear himself making some kind of noise around Finn, and he makes his hand and mouth move more quickly. Finn’s hands are still clenched in Kurt’s hair, and he starts guiding Kurt’s head, pulling him forward to meet Finn’s shallow thrusts into Kurt’s mouth. Kurt closes his eyes again, almost gagging once but holding himself up with the hand on Finn’s hip as Finn moves his head. 

Finn’s moans get louder, interspersed with little yelps, and he starts thrusting into Kurt’s mouth erratically, chanting, “Oh fuck, Kurt. Oh fuck. Kurt, oh fuck.”

Kurt realizes that he should probably have had a plan for the end, but he doesn’t have a plan, isn’t sure what he thinks the plan should be, and it is rapidly beginning to seem like he’s too late to figure out a plan anyway. Finn cries out loudly and starts to come, and Kurt chokes a little, startled, before he pulls back, Finn still coming. There are spatters on Kurt’s face and probably in his hair, and Kurt wasn’t planning on _that_ ending.

Finn exhales loudly, his hands relaxing in Kurt’s hair. He runs his thumb across Kurt’s messy cheek, tilting Kurt’s face up so Finn can look at him. “Fuck,” Finn says softly. “That’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh,” Kurt says softly, because that wasn’t exactly what he was anticipating. To be fair, he’s not sure what he was anticipating. 

“Thank you,” Finn says. “Just, thank you.” He swipes his thumb across Kurt’s face again, then leans over to grab his T-shirt from the floor. Finn uses his thumb to wipe Kurt’s face more or less clean, cleaning his hand off on the shirt and dropping it back to the floor. “Come here,” Finn says, offering Kurt a hand.

Kurt takes Finn’s hand, letting Finn pull him off the floor. Once he’s standing, Finn begins unfastening Kurt’s pants, pushing them down Kurt’s hips along with his underwear. Kurt deliberately wiggles a little, stepping out of them carefully. Finn laughs.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re a wiggly little fish,” Finn says. “Don’t try to tell me you’re not.”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t,” Kurt retorts.

“Good thing, too, ‘cause you’d be a liar. Now come here.” Finn wraps his hands around Kurt’s forearms and pulls him to the bed, where Finn sits, pulling Kurt up into his lap. Kurt straddles Finn, putting one arm around Finn’s neck. 

“At least I’m colorful.”

“Yeah, you’re the prettiest, brightest, toughest fish,” Finn says. He trails his fingertips down Kurt’s chest and stomach, curling his fingers around Kurt’s cock. “Good?”

“Yes.” Kurt nods and shifts in place. “Very good.”

Finn puts his free arm around Kurt, pressing against his back and holding him steady, and starts moving his hand on Kurt’s cock, as Kurt puts his other arm around Finn’s neck and holds on. Finn’s grip is just barely too tight, and as he slowly pumps his hand up and down Kurt’s cock, he presses his lips to Kurt’s. 

Kurt runs his tongue along Finn’s lips, rocking into each movement of Finn’s hand. Finn deepens the kiss, opening his mouth to touch his tongue to Kurt’s. Kurt sighs a little into the kiss, his fingers clutching at the back of Finn’s neck as Finn speeds up. Kurt thrusts up and breaks the kiss as he starts to come, calling out Finn’s name. 

Finn continues to hold him close, saying, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, Kurt,” and moving his hand until Kurt whimpers quietly and pulls back. Finn lets go of Kurt’s cock, wiping his hand on the blanket and then putting that arm around Kurt, too, hugging him to Finn’s chest. “You’re all mine,” he murmurs into Kurt’s hair. “This is so crazy.”

Kurt nods against Finn, because Finn’s right. It is crazy. It’s crazy and unexpected and yet a little bit perfect. “Yeah,” he finally says softly. “We’re each other’s.”

***

Glee club on Tuesday is awkward to say the least. The recent breakups, coupled with the mass Troubletones exodus, results in unusual seating configurations as lines are drawn and sides are taken. Puck enters and offers a fist to Finn to bump, while turning to Kurt and saying appreciatively, “So glad I don’t have to pretend to like Anderson anymore.” He sits next to Finn in the back row of seats.

Artie’s allegiances are also quickly made clear when he rolls up next to Blaine without so much as a backwards glance at Kurt or Finn. Mike and Tina enter the chorus room, and Tina quickly takes a seat next to Kurt, with Mike on her other side. Rory sits next to Rachel, though it’s unclear whether he’s basing that decision on loyalty or on that seat being the closest to the door for escape purposes. Only Quinn seems completely uninterested in taking sides, planting herself directly in the middle of the center row with her arms crossed and an annoyed look on her face. 

As soon as Mr. Schuester enters, Rachel’s arm shoots up even as she rises to her feet. “Mr. Schuester, Blaine and I have prepared a number to perform today, and we would like for it to be considered for Sectionals.”

“Good,” Finn stage-whispers to Kurt. “We’ll let them duet together. I’m tired of being blamed when we lose.”

Kurt stifles a giggle as Rachel turns around and shoots Finn and Kurt a big theatrical smile. “I don’t know about Sectionals,” Mr. Schuester replies, “but sure, let’s hear it. What do you have for us?”

“We selected an arrangement of the duet made famous by Patty Smyth and Don Henley, ‘Sometimes Love Just Ain’t Enough’,” Blaine explains. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Quinn mutters, shaking her head. 

After approximately four minutes of Blaine and Rachel trying to vocally one-up each other, the song blessedly comes to an end, and the two of them take their seats again, everyone else turning to look expectantly at Finn and Kurt. 

“No, no,” Kurt says quickly. “Neither of us has a song prepared today.”

“Oh, thank God,” Quinn says quietly. 

Glee club continues with comparatively little drama, though Mr. Schuester seems to be floundering for an assignment idea. When the bell rings, both Finn and Kurt head in the direction of their lockers, where Finn is stopped by Santana just a few feet away from his. Kurt opens his locker and busies himself so he can eavesdrop. 

“Hey, Tubs! I guess Berry had the right idea, getting rid of your fat ass. And before she made a mistake like I did and spread her legs for the custard king of Lima. I guess she didn’t like that your manboobs were bigger than hers. I can understand that. It’s too bad you won’t have a Sectionals win to console you, since you only have one decent vocalist left.”

“Whatever, Santana,” Finn says, turning to his locker. 

“I guess it’s doubly lucky for Bilbo Berry, since she would have needed a magnifying glass to even find your dick.”

Kurt can feel himself tense, and he resists the urge to turn around and either slap the eyebrow pencil off her face or possibly make a pronouncement about the actual size of Finn’s cock, just so no one listening is left with a mistaken impression. 

Finn, however, does not appear particularly distressed. He shrugs negligently. “My boyfriend likes it just fine.”

Kurt shifts his position so he can see Santana’s face. “Well, your boyfriend is—” Santana starts, then stops herself, a look of confusion on her face. Then she rolls her eyes and sighs. “Whatever, Hudson.” She turns and walks away, still looking baffled and a little annoyed. 

Finn opens his locker and takes out a book, not watching Santana walk away. He turns to Kurt and says, “Wait. That was true, right?”

Kurt giggles and nods. “Yes, Finn. It was. Are you ready for the fascinating world of economics?”

“We could skip again,” Finn offers. 

“Did you have anywhere else you have to be today?” Kurt asks archly.

“Hmm,” Finn says. “I can think of one place.”

“And where would that be?”

Finn grins widely at Kurt, like Kurt is the only person in the entire school. “You,” Finn says, then he closes his locker, and they walk out to the parking lot together.


End file.
